Tomorrow We Believe, But Not Today
by Blindfolded Angel
Summary: Sephiroth is sane, AVALANCHE executed, Yuffie is convicted of Theft, Cloud is MIA, Tifa volunteers in a Hospital to escape her pain and finds Vincent Valentine, locked away to prevent a future Hojo distastes. Can she save him from ShinRa's twisted plans?
1. Say Goodbye

**Pairings: TifaxVincent, TifaxCloud, VincentxLurcrecia, HojoxLucrecia **

**Music: Shining by Kristian Leontiou**

**Disclaimer: Don't own FFVII, Characters, etc.**

**Summary: This is based off of a lot of 'what ifs' throughout the FFVII storyline.**

**Chapter I: **_Say Goodbye_

"_Hojo, you're up late."_

_He can see the young Turk's eyes glowing like embers that light up the darkness. For a moment, he thought that those glowing eyes were real but the moon was a cruel mistress and it was her glow upon his eyes that gave him the impression._

_Hojo scowled to himself. Deep within his heart he wished that he had Valentine as a test subject. Ever since the Turk had been issued down to his headquarters, he had watched him. Vincent had the potential to become the perfect specimen. Good health, quick reflexes, good eyesight, strong immune system (the man rarely got sick), fast, strong, clever, among other things. He could become something glorious and through him, Hojo could learn so much!_

_But the man was also filled with useless qualities such as pride, moral center, and was too willful for his own good. He had a pure heart and human experimentation probably wouldn't sit well with him, not to mention the fact that being a human test subject probably wasn't high on his 'things to do before I die' list._

_But none of that mattered and Hojo knew what he must do. With a nimble flick of his bony fingers, Hojo cast the room into light. He grinned within himself when he saw Vincent wince a bit at the sudden introduction of light to his sensitive red hued eyes. _

_Vincent sat at the table, a mug of steaming something or other sitting on the table beside him, his gun parts set neatly down in the order that they were taken apart, a cleaning set beside them and in his hands was one of the more intricate pieces of his prized gun as he cleaned it dutifully._

_Vincent was still clad in some pieces of his Turks Uniform but seeing as he didn't need to worry about his image while everyone slept, he had his white dress shirt untucked and loose about the collar a few buttons down, his coat hung neatly from the chair next to him and his shoes and socks were no where to be found. His hair was as neat and shiny as ever. _

"_The same could be said of you, Valentine," Hojo said softly and walked further into the kitchen, towards the fridge and his objective. With Vincent being in the kitchen anyways, it made his plans oh so easy._

_Vincent only hummed his agreement._

"_You know, I had a dream just now," Hojo said softly and this was what everything was truly about. His dream, unlike others, felt so real. Not to mention that everything made sense. He couldn't explain it but he couldn't ignore it either. If he wanted his dreams and aspirations to come to fruition, he couldn't take any risks. None._

_Vincent glanced up at him from his work, and curiously wondered where this was going._

"_In my dream, everything that I worked so very hard to accomplish was taken away from me…by you and a bunch of meddling imbeciles."_

_Vincent's hand visibly tightened on the component of his gun and slowly, Hojo could tell he was thinking of a way to put his gun back together and load it, just in case._

_Hojo opened the fridge and ignored the cool air that came to greet him as he put his hands out of Vincent's sight, acted as though he was rummaging. Deftly his fingers took up a frozen syringe already filled with the liquid he needed, a powerful sedative, and harmlessly slipped it down the sleeve of his bathrobe, grabbed a packet of fruit juice just afterwards to cover it up and put Vincent a little more at ease._

"_You see… you had snuck down into the labs that, in your contract, you were clearly forbidden to enter. Upon seeing the things that the ShinRa Company has assigned Doctor Crescent and myself to do, you promptly threw a hissy fit. I suppose that I also failed to notice that you and Lucrecia were slowly becoming…involved with each other outside of work…"_

_Hojo suppressed a grin when he noticed Vincent stiffen, though his emotionless Turk mask never faltered for a second. It was then that Hojo knew his dream was right._

"_You tried to stop Lucrecia and I from furthering our careers and our research but you neglected just two things, in my dream."_

_Vincent's voice was stiff, cold, and professional, "And what was that?"_

"_For one, you forgot that first and foremost, we are scientists, Vincent. Secondly, you forgot that women are very fickle creatures and you let your emotions get the best of you," Hojo's eyes flashed with smug pride and madness, "As a Turk, you should've known better."_

_Without him ever noticing, Vincent had already pieced together half of his gun. His fingers were silent, deft and dexterous. Vincent and Lucrecia had already grown quite close and Vincent had already made a few trips into the basement of the ShinRa Manor, all in hope of getting the proof to call ShinRa on its madness and to free Lucrecia from her bindings to the hellish organization. To stop the JENOVA project before it got out of hand. From the information he got from Professor Gast before he mysteriously disappeared as well as his family, Vincent knew this was all bad news._

"_I put a slug through your gut when you came to confront me on why Lucrecia and I are planning to implant JENOVA cells into our baby."_

_Vincent's eyes widened and his hands stopped in their ministrations._

**_'Hojo_**_ and Lucrecia…bare a child. Then they…**experiment** upon it? Dear God!' Vincent thought hurriedly as his fingers slid his gun components into proper place. _

_Vincent had to stop this madness. While Hojo claimed it to be a dream, he had also said he had to stop this before he got in the way. Meaning he was planned on it either which way._

"_Hojo," Vincent growled, his gun mostly completed but Hojo just continued._

"_We tried to save you to further our research, Vincent. We injected you with DNA from JENOVA, MAKO and other forms of healing supplements. Nothing worked but even after I gave up, Lucrecia didn't. She implanted you with the WEAPON Chaos. From there, you suffered for 30 years in a coffin, holding the scars of experimentation, MAKO, JENOVA, the four monsters we implanted in you and living through your own guilt. From there, I don't feel like getting into the details. To put it simply, you are released 30 years into the future, you stop my son, JENOVA and I at every turn so…" Hojo said, all the while circling him, dropping his packet of juice upon a counter as he passed, "I'll take care of the problem now, before things get out of hand!"_

_It was then, in a flurry of motion, that Vincent had his gun finished and loaded, that he sprung up and spun on heel to get in the ready and aim at Hojo and it was just a second too late that he registered the connection between Hojo's grinning, fearless gaze and the quick, creeping numbness taking over his body._

_With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Vincent watched Hojo as his expression changed from smug to delighted._

"_That is a special sedative I made from scratch that could take down even the most ferocious of monsters. You stand no chance against it."_

_A loud clattering noise issued throughout the room and moments later Vincent realized his hands had let go of the heavy gun and were empty, not to mention motionless. A few moments later he crumbled to the ground, numb and growling, as the edges of his vision got darker and spread until all was naught but darkness and nightmares. The last thing he would hear in his life of freedom was Hojo's cackling, light footsteps and Lucrecia's screams._

…**_Lucrecia…I'm sorry...I tried but it wasn't enough… _**

"_What are you going to do with him, Simon?!" Lucrecia panicked, holding the unconscious Turk's head gently in her lap._

_Hojo simply smiled, "I'll do as I have always wanted to do and you will help me. When the time comes we will take care of him accordingly so that he can never help those meddling children."_

"_What are you talking about?" Lucrecia murmured sorrowfully, glaring at the man she once respected and now hated above all things._

**From the Author of Final Fantasy's:**

_Two Where There Was One_

_& _

_Grew Up Wishing_

**As well as Devil May Cry's:**

_Unplugged _

**Comes the story of one man's suffering and one woman's quest to solve a mystery long since forgotten…**

**_Blindfolded Angel_**** now proudly presents**

**The newest tale of the Final Fantasy Series**

_Tomorrow we Believe, But not Today_

**_30 Years Later…_**

"Tonight on TNN, the search is called off for the young Turk of the ShinRa Electric Power Company, Vincent Valentine. After thirty years of looking, hope has finally ceased for the loyal young man and a funeral service is to soon be held by the ShinRa Company. He will be dearly missed. On other news," the young woman on the TV said professionally but she didn't get to finish her sentence before the TV was cut off.

The room grew dark as the light from the TV faded, casting the area in shades of blue and black and gray. The hospital room was a nice size, not too big but not too small for just one occupant. It was cozy, or at least it should have been with its comfortable chair, warm bed, TV, bookshelf and bathroom, not to mention a window with a view, but the air in the room was thick. Thick with sorrow, pain, and hatred to such an extent that the nurses and doctors of the facility felt anxious to simply look at its door.

Outside the world was a sunless, wet place. The dark grays and blacks of the clouds were menacing and relentless in their scorn upon the earth, throwing down buckets of rain and dishing out claps of thunder and lighting so bright that it was as dazzling as it was frightening. The storm had no intention of letting up anytime soon and it fit the situation perfectly.

"Well, there you go, Mister Valentine, it seems as though your stay with us has no intention of ending, hm?" said an annoying, squawking voice that belonged to a man in his middle ages that sat on the edge of the bed. His hair was long, tied in a loose thing tail, and as greasy as it was black. Clad in a white laboratory coat, the man seemed to glow in the room, his glasses gave off a light all their own.

A seemingly young man who appeared to be tucked in like any other healing patient occupied the bed. His hair was a messy long raven colored mane that somehow was unaffected by the horrors of bed head. He was pale despite the fact that his bed was positioned in the window in such a way that light could still fall upon him. But there was no light now except for the flashes of lighting that flickered across the sky in stormy wrath. His eyes were thick with emotion, with hate, anger, and bitterness. Anyone who passed him might have fancied that his eyes were glowing bright red like the very fires of hell.

"Such temper, Mister Valentine! If you keep that up the contacts I made for you will be of no use! Though it is so disappointing to have to cover up your eyes, Vincent. I like the monstrous red MAKO eyes I gave you much more than the dull brown these contacts make them," he sighed, "What a pity. Oh well."

The man gave no response but instead opted instead to glare at his tormentor.

"So silent, Vincent…always so silent…"

Vincent wanted to growl, wanted to scream, and to let out all that Hojo's medication had bottled up within him. _Medication…_ hardly. More like a way to hush up the only living witness to Hojo's crimes. The medication was administered often and left Vincent feeling weak to a point that made breathing and staying alive an exhausting effort. Hojo's fingers brushed over the blankets, where Vincent's arms were tied to the metal sidings of the hospital bed. Thick Velcro straps trimmed with reinforced lead. Straps along his arms, straps around his torso, straps around his legs…not like they were needed anymore; he could barely lift a finger. Or so Hojo thought.

The metal sidings of the bed lurched and shook as Vincent tugged and struggled, making the man's eyes go wide. With one final lurch, Vincent hauled one of his arms free, a dark static singing through his skin from a foreign strength not his own. His eyes shown like bright amber stars but thanks to the contacts, appeared only to be a warm caramel color.

"I'm disappointed…" Vincent growled, "I expected more foresight from a doctor experienced in handling experimental medicine. Use the same medication enough times and the body grows immune, Hojo!"

"Oho!" the man laughed, still slightly startled as he managed to stay just out of reach of the rapidly mutating arm. The arm became a clawed and dangerous thing, the muscles beneath the skin growing and contracting with each second, "So I see, Mister Valentine! Well, I suppose I'll have to make a new medication, now won't I?"

Vincent growled, fangs growing beneath his lips as they pulled back to snarl, his legs and arms that were pinned struggled against their bonds desperately. His hair lifted and became long messy spikes.

The man picked himself off the bed and slowly made his way to the IV feed used to give Vincent his medication, his form still shadowed and unidentifiable. Vincent's thrashing didn't stop as the man did so and it was only when a flash of lighting reflected off of the shine of needle that Vincent stilled to look at him.

The syringe that the man was holding was small and seemingly harmless due to its size but the young man, who didn't appear to be a day over twenty seven, knew better than that. He has experience that said otherwise concerning the rather harmless look of the syringe. Even a dose as small as that could hurt him in ways that not even the largest dose of any other drug could. But this drug was not the same as the one before. It was teal and swirling, unlike the thick black broth from before.

"It took you 30 years to become immune to the medication before this one. I think I'll be able to think of another in the time it will take for you to get used to this one," the man grinned, his teeth gleamed in the darkness, "Sweet dreams…Chaos."

With that, the man inserted the fluid with a motion too quick for Vincent to see and before he knew it, that liquid hell was making its way through the tube and inching slowly to the needle in his arm. He moved to go and rip the needle from his arm but seeing as it was in the free arm and in the crook of his arm, his hand could not properly reach it. With wide, panicking eyes, he watched that liquid enter his body and in that moment he thrust his gaze to the back of the retreating man. As he heard the click of his door and felt the control his mind had over his body slip and the power of his demon abandon him. He felt anger like no other boil in his stomach.

With a roar that took the last of his energy, he howled into the darkness of his hell, "HOJO!" the sound of that name being called throughout the complex seemed to carry on forever and as his control of his voice slipped from his mind, Vincent simply let his frantic eyes flick in rapid movements, the panic of being unable to move once again sinking in. His useless free arm sat limply at an uncomfortable angle and all the while he tried to digest the information Hojo had just shown to him.

_The search has been called off…_

He closed his eyes as if the act would make everything simply go away and all the hell he went through for the past thirty years would just be a horrible dream but the sinking in his stomach told him otherwise and as his heart began to still, his eyes returned to the dull chocolate color of the contacts, the glow in them gone and defeated. He turned to look out of the window, to the storm outside.

_There is no more hope…_

_Hojo has finally won._

* * *

"Welcome to TNN, the 24/7 news center with the quickest updates and most reliable information out there! I'm Amelia Turner," said the young woman on the Television just as the camera moved to another anchor, this time a male, "and I'm Kyle Richardson."

Tifa sighed and scrubbed harder at the already glossy counter tops of the Seventh Heaven bar. Her hair was tied back in a beautiful, loose tail to keep it out of her way as she worked. Clad in a rather revealing black ensemble she betrayed the true dangerous potential she had. She was quite the fighter and her fiery cherry chocolate eyes proved the point, blazing with a fire that seemingly nothing could take out.

Giving up on her task, she leaned upon the counter of her bar and let her head sink into one of her hands and watched the last of her customers leave their pay upon the table and leave. It was just about time to close up but she didn't want to. If she closed up, she would notice the sudden lack of life in her bar. With Marlene and Denzel gone there was an odd emptiness to the bar that was driving her up a wall. With a sigh she picked herself up off the counter, walked to the doors and flipped her little sign from open to closed.

"As stated earlier, the search for Vincent Valentine has finally ended after thirty long years of looking. Vincent Valentine was once a loyal member of the Turks of the ShinRa Electric Power Company. Sadly, a few months into his last mission before his upcoming promotion to succeed Veld Verdot, Vincent was filed as missing in action. The ShinRa Company has marked up a date to give the loyal young man a proper funeral and they send their condolences to his friends, family and loved ones. Vincent Valentine shall be sorely missed."

Tifa paused, listening as she began to clean up the bar.

"How sad," she said aloud, straightened to look at the TV in hope to catch a glimpse of a picture of some kind but the news cast provided nothing other than the headline stating that Vincent Valentine had finally been filed as deceased, the ShinRa logo hung just behind it. Her voice was kissed with pity and sadness, "Thirty long years…the man's family…"

Then she shook her head, remembering just how horrible ShinRa was and what the Turks really did behind the cover of ShinRa's name.

She wrinkled her nose; _the world's well rid of him._

With a nod to confirm it, she continued to close up shop.

"On other news, the Heir of Wutai has been convicted of theft and has been scheduled to go on trail to receive the proper sentence for her crimes. The Emperor of Wutai has requested that his daughter be judged, not as the soon to be Empress but as a citizen of Wutai. His shame is evident and the country mourns the dishonor that their representative has set upon them."

Tifa shrugged, _why should I care? Why should any of them care? They should be used to this. People in power always abuse and misuse their power. Good for the Emperor, having her judged as a common thief instead letting her standing get her out of her mess. He's probably a good man. How rare…_

Tifa gathered several glass mugs between her fingers, all sticky with the residue of the alcohol within them and led them to the sink, holding them a safe distance away from herself.

"The investigation into AVALANCHE, the terrorist group, has finally come to an end," the young man called Kyle said and this caught Tifa's attention with such power that she nearly dropped one of her expensive glass mugs as her head spun to the TV, "The following were caught and apprehended for the crimes that were about to be committed on the Plates of Midgar. Biggs, Wedge, Jessie, and Barret Wallace have all been put on trail and were executed earlier today. Thanks to ShinRa the group was stopped before anything could happen and now the people of Midgar are safe once more."

It was then that the glasses slipped from Tifa's shocked fingers, fell and shattered upon the cold floor of the bar. The shards and slivers of the glasses twinkled and sang as they skittered across the floor in all directions.

Tifa was only faintly aware of the loss of her mugs, however. Her soapy hands were still in front of her, as if still holding the mugs, and they trembled horribly. Her brows drew up into a arc and she let out a loud sob as she fell to her knees despite the glass.

Blood puddled onto the floor from her knees where the bite of the glass shredded her skin as she let her face fall into her hands. Her blood mingled with her tears as she sobbed for the loss of her friends. She originally was going to go with them on that raid but she couldn't leave the bar. She wanted to spend one last night with the kids before they left and she was still waiting…

…For _him_…She hadn't heard from Cloud since he left so very long ago, back when they still lived in Nibelheim.

_They're gone! _She sobbed. _All gone!_

* * *

**_Three Days Later…_**

She couldn't stand it anymore. Tifa was going insane with grief. For three days she had done nothing but drink and sleep, trying to forget her pain. For three days the bar had been closed. She figured she could simply reopen the bar and work in hopes to forget that horrible report but with the small talk that she always overheard, she knew that she would constantly be reminded of how her friends were wronged and how the rest of the world hated the ones who wanted to save them.

Her heart tightened at the thought. _What would she tell Marlene?_

She shook her head, refusing to think about it now and refusing to grab another drink from her immense supply. She needed to get away from the bar, away from the constant reminders. As far as Marlene went…she still had time before the little girl came back. She just had to hope the girl didn't hear about it while at camp. Tifa didn't want her to have to deal with it, not just yet.

Let the little girl have a few more months of peace and happiness before the world came crashing down on her. Was it so wrong to be selfish? She didn't want to deal with what loomed on the horizon. She did not want to deal with the two sorrowful little children and with them gone…At least this gave Tifa sometime to compose herself so she would be ready to give Marlene the support, love and comfort she would need when she came back. It wasn't like she had a funeral to rush to; ShinRa wouldn't give back their bodies…

She would create her own funeral. With Marlene and Denzel, they would make all of AVALANCHE a memorial. They wouldn't go through the Life Stream forgotten…

Tifa thrust the thoughts away just as fresh tears came to trace her cheeks. Wiping them with the back of her sleeves, she opened up the newspaper.

She needed to get away from Midgar. Away from the reminders and the pain and the sorrow. She would call up a friend and go on a trip out of town up until the kids came back. She didn't care where she was or what she was doing as long as she wasn't there, in Midgar, any longer.

Her eyes traced over the paper absentmindedly, not really taking anything in, until she accidentally came across an ad that caught her eye.

**_Due to a sudden lack in staff The University of Nibelheim Medical Hospital is seeking volunteers to_** **_help handle patients. For more information please contact the University_** **_Hospital as soon as possible. Room and board will be supplied in an apartment Complex not too far from the Hospital. Please contact…_**

_It was perfect._

Tifa was already dialing the number before she finished reading.

"Hello?" Tifa said, shouldering her phone as she went about gathering her luggage to get ready to pack, "Yes, my name is Tifa Lockhart and I'm calling to answer your ad for the volunteers at your hospital. Hm? Yes, of course I'll hold."

* * *

The door to his room opened with a swish but Vincent didn't notice. He was trapped within his body, just like before but now it was worse. While before he felt clear minded and was aware of everything, now the new medication made his thoughts slow and sluggish. He felt mentally exhausted and would often lose his train of thought thanks to the thick fog in his mind. He slowly turned to look at Hojo as he entered, his eyes following the horrid man as he closed the door behind him and crossed the room to sit on the side of his bed where the metal bars didn't encase it.

"Hello Mister Valentine, how are you feeling today?" Hojo said with mock sincerity.

Vincent almost forgot to glare at him. Almost. But it didn't do much good seeing as his exhaustion and lack of muscle control barely made him a threat.

Vincent looked away from the smug man above him, his heart sick with the ache that came with defeat. He would never get out of this place and he would never be able to die…not with Hojo doing everything possible to keep him alive. He kept his eyes pinned to the ceiling.

"I have good news for you, Vincent," Hojo said as he took out a flashlight pen and began to shine it in and out of Vincent's eyes in turn, trying to gauge how effective his new _medication_ was. The pupils were sluggish in their reactions, "A young woman from Midgar has just accepted one of our volunteer positions. Seeing as I am a busy man, and you are obviously a very lonely man, and I no longer need to worry about that awful investigation of your MIA, I figured I would assign you as her patient. She'll be taking care of some of the more tiring tasks that must be done to take care of you, Vincent, so that our paid staff can actually focus on our paying patients, hmm?"

_What, do you think I want to be here or something? Its not like I wanted to waste the space in your damn hell of a hospital, Hojo! _Vincent's mind screamed with growing rage.

Hojo continued to check Vincent's vitals, "Now there is no need to thank me, Vincent," Hojo continued, very aware of the fiery red orbs shining through the brown tinted contacts, burning a hole through the ceiling, "I know you'll appreciate the reintroduction to humans from outside the hospital," Hojo stopped and frowned, "We'll need to get you a oxygen mask soon if the degeneration in your muscles continues at the rate it is. I didn't think the serum would be so effective!"

Vincent accomplished forcing a meager growl through his lips but he didn't look at Hojo, he refused to look at Hojo. Even if he could talk, he would never admit to the fact that breathing was becoming harder and harder for him.

"I think I'll need to give the serum a few finishing touches. I can't let this effect the strength of your vital organs, now can I? He pressed the button above Vincent's bed with a quick flick of his fingers, "Don't worry, you're mask will be here soon and I'll fix the serum so that you can breathe by yourself as soon as I find some time," Hojo sneered.

Vincent wasn't afraid. He knew Hojo would fix the serum. He wouldn't let him die that easily…Vincent would never die again.

A nurse knocked lightly on the door before opening it and peeking through, "You called, Doctor Hojo?" she asked, her voice soft and warm but Vincent refused to look at either of them. He heard the concern in her voice as she asked, "Is Mister Crescent okay?"

Vincent's eyes widened. _Mr. Crescent?_

Hojo requested that the nurse went to get the proper tools to help Vincent breathe properly and once she was gone and the door closed, Hojo turned to look at Vincent who still refused to meet his gaze.

"You heard right, Vincent. I changed your name here. I completely forged and created a new persona for you to use. You are now Vincent Crescent. Isn't that kind of me? You never got the chance to give Lucrecia, Gaia rest her soul, your name but with her death," Hojo smiled, "She has given you hers."

Hojo couldn't see the man properly thanks to the shadows from the storm brewing once more. The whole week had been filled with thunderstorms, despite the cold weather of winter, and some had begun to take it as a consequence for using MAKO. As a sign…ha, what utter pishposh!

"Oh, and don't worry, Vincent," Hojo said after he walked to the door and opened it, pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder to the man in bed, his body framed with a halo of light from the hallway, "No one knows that you are really fifty seven years old. They all think you're still in your twenties. You can thank me for that, my little Turk."

Hojo was sure, as he turned to leave, he saw the other man tremble despite his strength sapping medication and he was sure that, as he left, he saw a tear fall down Valentine's face.

Probably because he still thought Lucrecia was alive.

What a fool.

* * *

**_Hey guys, both new and returning! For all of those who noticed I have created another story without finishing the other three, I'm sorry! I couldn't resist! I'll try to equally update all three…_**

**_I hope you guys enjoyed the new storyline and I hope its original because I don't like redoing what has already been done. Its kind of like the opposite to my _**_Two Where There Was One** story line, in sorts. You'll see. **_

**_Yes, this is a Tifa Vincent story. I tried to write with Yuffie but I just can't stand her and the age difference and personality difference just rubs me the wrong way. _**

**_Er, Review if you think its worth it. All suggestions, comments, reviews, etc, are highly appreciated and accepted, even if they are negative. It will help me improve since I am first and foremost a writer…though you can spare me comments on spelling, I don't bother rereading, I'm too lazy._**

**_-Spazzy_**


	2. Charades

Chapter 2: Charades

Nibelheim was truly a beautiful place, just as she remembered it. Oh how she knew these mountains and paths! How long had she worked as a guide in these lands? How long had it been since she had been here…

No matter how beautiful it was it still brought up painful memories. The faster she got out of the center of the town itself and to the Institute, the better. With that thought drifting through her head Tifa spun upon her heal, walked to the corner of the sidewalk just outside the airport and let out a long wolfish whistle. In an instant a cab came to her call.

She bent down to grab her luggage just as the cab driver exited and as he made his way to her and reached down to help her, she looked up. He wasn't anything special but somehow he was different. Unique. He had his hat, a fedora, she believed, tipped low to shadow his face and all of his movements were calculated in such a manner so that she never got a proper chance to check without being obvious.

He was lithe and somewhat on the short side, she noticed, but the air he gave off was eerily familiar. He smelt of the breeze on a beach and of a hard day of work. A small pointy lock of hair slipping free on the right side, coming down to caress his cheek. Blonde hair…Cloud?

Tifa brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and let out a breathy chuckle, confused and afraid. It was then that she realized that he did all the work getting her bags into the car and that she had done nothing at all. She also noticed that he was making his way around the yellow cab and into the divers seat. It was only when he opened the door that she broke free from her thoughts and took action.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry. I didn't help at all!" she said with dismay as she took a step closer to the cab, "I was a bit lost in thought…"

"Don't worry about it," came a deep hoarse voice that sounded nothing like what she imagined Cloud would sound like. She imagined he would sound different, seeing as the last time she had seen him…and even then, she wasn't sure if it was truly him behind the ShinRa uniform, what with the hulking helmet and high collared grab. Maybe she was wrong…

Tifa sighed softly as she heard him sit down and close the door. The engine started up but the car never moved, obviously waiting for its guest.

Tifa opened the back right car door and plopped in, suddenly fatigued. Leaning her elbow against the door and tilting her head against the tinted black windows she sighed, _Cloud…where are you?_

"Miss?"

Tifa blinked.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

Tifa realized then that she was in the cab. How could her thoughts have wandered so badly? She whipped her head to look at the man in the front seat who was gazing at her through the rearview mirror, his face still hidden by the dip of the front of his hat.

"I'm sorry," Tifa said, her throat tight and rushed, "I'm sorry."

The man held his hands up, his sign for 'its okay, now slow down.' "Don't worry about it."

Tifa simply watched him and a few silent seconds passed until the driver sighed in defeat.

"You haven't told me where you want to go yet, Miss," he said softly so as not to startle or hurt her.

"Oh! How forgetful of me…" Tifa said more to herself than to him, "Sorry, could you take me to The University of Nibelheim Medical Hospital?"

The man nodded and turned to look back through the front windows of the car and just like that the last leg of the journey to her new destination was started. With a sigh she turned to look back out the window of the car silently, leaning her pale forehead against the glass of the window and looking out at the sky as the cloudy weather seemed to grow worse and worse.

Her thoughts fled to the plane flight and the harsh ride she had to endure due to the storm. The National Weather Services said that the storm should've stopped by now but taking a look at the sky, it seemed that Mother Nature had no such intention. At this rate there would be some major flooding issues. It surprised her that Nibelheim was having the same weather issues as back home in Midgar. It was quite a distance away, after all.

It wasn't that she didn't like the rain. By all means, the rain was just fine with her but it couldn't top a snowy night on Christmas Eve.

"The Medical Institute, hmm?" the cab driver said suddenly, his tone curious and dark at the same time. There was a lengthy pause then where the only things that could be heard was the ratta-tat-tat of the rain on the car, the brush of the windshield wipers and the sound of the cars around them.

"Yes," Tifa said softly.

She couldn't see his eyes but she knew he was glancing back at her through the mirror, "You're going through some hard times, aren't you?" his voice questioned sadly.

"…Yes."

"You're running from it? The pain?" the cab driver asked.

Tifa felt as though she should've been mad at the driver for asking all these personal questions but she was too exhausted and the familiar feel of his presence kept tricking her mind.

"…I just need to get my mind off of some things…"

"Hmm."

Tifa looked to the face in the mirror, masked by the dip of his hat, "That's why I'm going to the Hospital. To volunteer and keep busy."

"Figured as much," said the man.

Tifa frowned, "I could be going to visit someone, you know."

The man shook his head softly, "No."

Tifa blinked, "What do you mean, 'no'? It's a hospital meaning that there will be people there visiting the patients."

The man kept his eyes on the road but his voice was tired and resigned when he answered, "No one goes there to visit the patients. Not anymore."

Tifa watched the man for a moment, as if waiting to see if he planned on giving out any more information but when it was obvious that the conversation was over Tifa tilted her vision back to the world outside of the vehicle and allowed her thoughts to wander.

_Why wouldn't anyone go to visit the patients?_

* * *

"Hmm…seems as though the rain has no intention of stopping anytime soon, Mister Valentine. Good thing this Institute was built on high ground. It seems as though a flood is on its way.

Vincent merely ignored him.

"Now Vincent, its not right to be a sore loser. I won our little bet fair and square. Your thirty years of peace are up," Hojo laughed softly as he sat down upon the part of the bed free of the metal siding.

Vincent closed his eyes. Yes…their bet. Hojo had called the world and all of its people blind, deaf, and dumb of the truth, not because they were incapable of figuring it out but because they didn't want to. There was simply a lack in decent and morally good citizens these days. Those smart enough to figure it out either was bribed out of speaking or in a similar state Vincent found himself in now.

Thirty years. Vincent bet Hojo that within thirty years at the most someone would figure all of this out. That they would expose ShinRa and Hojo both for the insane lunatics that they were and that he would be free from his clutches.

Hojo accepted. He would pull a few strings and made Vincent's search party last for thirty long years before 'hope' would be lost. He would put up a reward to make sure that the chances were open to any and all parties to help. If Vincent was found within that time period then obviously, Vincent would be free, ShinRa would be exposed and all would be well in fairy tale land and they all lived happily ever after. The end.

But…

If Hojo won…and Vincent was not found within those thirty years of searching then Hojo would receive ascent from Vincent himself to be the volunteer patient to a new experiment he wanted to hold.

Hojo leaned back on his hands and watched Vincent from the corner of his eyes, "Well, I want to hear it, Vincent."

Vincent scowled, his thoughts racing, and played dumb.

Hojo let out a soft 'tsk' and smiled at Vincent, giving him his full attention now, "I didn't give you your medication today. I know that you are coherent, that you can speak, Vincent. Now I want to hear it."

Vincent opened his eyes to glare at Hojo before he finally spoke, his voice hoarse from lack of use and the damage done to his body from the drugs, "It doesn't matter…"

"Hmm?" Hojo asked curiously, "Now why is that? I in no ways violated our agreement."

_I hardly call these thirty years peaceful…_

"The experimental drugs, this hospital bed, the bindings, the MAKO, and Chaos. I hardly call that living up to the agreement."

Hojo seemed to consider this as he rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger, "Hm. While what you say is a solid point, Vincent, I didn't have anything to do with Chaos. That was Doctor Lucrecia Crescent's theory and experiment, not mine. Her motives were her own."

Vincent seemed dumbstruck by this. Not once during his long imprisonment had Hojo spoke of Chaos or the experimentations dealing with it despite his love for rubbing in the effects of his various medications and procedures. He never once assumed that Lucrecia…

_Lucrecia…_

"Well, Vincent, I'm waiting."

Vincent glanced up to him, "Not like I have a choice."

Hojo smiled and looked away, readjusting his glasses as he did so, "You're right. You don't have a choice but I still want to hear you say it, Valentine. I want to hear those words come out of your mouth so that I know once and for all that I beat the smug blue suited Turk from years ago."

Vincent glared at him but when Hojo's eyes drifted to meet his own he averted his gaze to the window and the storm outside of it.

He breathed, "Fine."

"Hmm?" Hojo prodded. His hand reaching for something in his pocket, "Say it properly, Vincent," he said which was shortly followed by a soft click.

"I volunteer as a specimen for your experiment, Hojo," Vincent whispered softly.

It was enough.

"Then I will see you later tonight with more details on your upcoming therapy treatments, Mister Valentine," Hojo said after a soft click and withdrew his arm from his pocket. He stood and made his way to the door, "I believe this is a cause for celebration, Vincent. I'll let you have your body for today and up until tomorrow. No medication. No bindings. Don't abuse your new found freedom."

The sound of the door opening alerted Vincent to Hojo's departure but he didn't turn to look. When the sounds paused there he frowned. Why wasn't the lunatic leaving? He got what he came for.

Oh yes, Vincent was well aware of the tape recording of his voice and his agreement to help Hojo in the name of 'science'. He was a Turk, trained to pick up even the smallest of details. Oh course he noticed.

"Miss Lockhart is the name of the young woman who will be attending to you from now on. Do be nice, will you?" Hojo sneered and left with a soft swoosh and click of the hospital room door.

Vincent never felt more defeated and helpless.

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be alright, Miss?" the driver asked softly.

Tifa shook herself awake, unaware until then that in her swirling depressing thoughts she had fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry. I must be exhausted from the long trip. Could you wait here for a moment? I just need to get the key and address to where I'll be staying. I know it's a lot to ask for…"

The man shook his head and his lips quirked at the edges ever so slightly, "Go on. I'll still be here when you get back."

Tifa smiled to him in, quite a radiant thing when she put her heart in it, and turned to go to the reception area of the Hospital.

The Hospital itself was quite gloomy looking. It was a huge complex built high above Nibelheim. Higher than the ShinRa manor as well and it over looked everything. Kind of like what she imagined the Gods and Goddesses of Mount Olympus might see, looking down among the little mortals that come and go like candle flames.

Walking up the large marble steps she paused and brought her hand to rest just above her heart. She was stopped dead by the feeling radiating from this building. She stood there from sometime despite the rain, which was soaking her through. She hadn't thought to grab an umbrella in her packing, after all. She heard the cabdriver call to her from the car and she shook her head and waved to him before continuing up the steps.

That feeling…was horrible. It was like a hammer blow and it invaded her heart with grief, pain, anger, sorrow, hate, regret and death. No Hospital should feel like that…was that why there were no visitors? Or was it the other way around?

The doors swished open before her automatically and she walked into the reception office in a dripping, sorrowful mess.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Can I help you?" said a cheerful voice from behind the counter. The tone almost sounded relieved.

"Er…yes. I called about a volunteer position…?"

"Oh, Miss Lockhart! Yes, they've been expecting you!" said the voice and all of a sudden a small, lithe form somersaulted over the check in desk and landed right before her. The young woman threw her hands onto her hip, tipped her chin high and beamed, "I'm Yuffie…" and immediately her face fell.

Tifa tilted her head curiously and felt a bit dumbfounded.

"Never mind…here, follow me. I'll lead you to Doctor Hojo," Yuffie almost growled the last part.

"Um…okay?" Tifa said softly, her own voice caught between being surprised and amused.

* * *

Vincent hadn't been alone long before he began to think like the Turk he really was. His training kicked in immediately. He had the use of his voice again and a limited control of his body. He wasn't strapped to the bed but he didn't have the energy, physically or mentally, to handle Chaos at the moment. He was weak from being in bed for as long as he had.

Despite the fact that the Chaos cells were always healing his deteriorating muscles, Vincent still wouldn't be able to move as freely as he wanted until a day or two went by without his ass being fused to a hospital bed. Escaping wasn't an option this far in the game. Or at least, not with his life…

Vincent brushed the muscle of his tongue over his teeth gently and glanced at the table next to his bed, which held a small plastic cup, and contained two barely used drawers before nodding to himself. He was going to need all of his strength to get what he needed even if it was as close as it was, and then to remove the blasted itchy contacts from his eyes. It would exhaust him but then again, it might not matter after all was said and done.

_Lucrecia. I'll be with you again soon._

* * *

"To your left is another patient's room and to your right is another patient's room and to your left is an empty room, imagine that…" Yuffie babbled sarcastically as she led Tifa through the halls. On the way she decided to give Tifa a tour to pass the time. Nothing that would take them out of the way of their destination but just a small little something to make time go by.

Tifa bit her lip to hold back a groan of annoyance. She really wanted to punch the kid and be over with it already. But being the good citizen that she was, she didn't and instead suffered through her 'tour' with what little patience she had left.

She paused as she passed a hallway that led to an open door at its end. Light poured out from that slightly open door, as did voices.

"You see, Mr. President, here, here, and here, will be the more vital areas closely followed by this section here and that one there. Quite a few of the lower sections will be inserted near the Radius and Ulna all the way through the Carpals, Metacarpals, and Phalanges," one of the voices explained eagerly.

"Yes, yes, I see, but how does this benefit us in any way, Doctor Hojo?" said another voice, which seemed oddly familiar, "What do you think, Scarlet? You're the head of Weapons Development."

A confident voice spoke then, as seductive as it was cunning, "I see three options here, sir. One, we use the specimen, should this turn out to be a success, as a WEAPON of our own. The other WEAPONs have been awakening and this would be a good defensive action. The subject is already trained not to mention the fact that if Doctor Lucrecia Crescent's theories were true, is somewhat of a WEAPON already. He just needs a little push in the right direction.

"Or we could use this simply for information purposes. Imagine if we could develop this, sir. Think of how powerful out SOLDIERs would be if they didn't have to lug around materia and instead could simply utilize it whenever."

Heidegger spoke up then, "I believe I have say in this too. If this lad does become a WEAPON then he will go into my ranks, will he not? I am the Head of Shinra's Public Safety Maintenance Department; I command the Turks and SOlDIER. Do I get no say in this despite all that, sir?"

"Of course this will come into your hands soon enough but the two parts of the department that will be the most involved this deserve to debate and decide. The would be the Science Department and the Weapons Development Department. You are apart of neither," said a cold voice much like old man ShinRa's but worse.

"The last option, Scarlet?" the President, Tifa assumed, spoke then.

"Pull the plug."

There was a loud cast of murmurs and outraged voices then and Tifa turned to catch Yuffie who was already halfway through passing her and heading down the hall that led to the outraged voices.

"Uh…Yuffie? I think that they aren't quite…"

Yuffie ignored, talking over Tifa's words loudly, "Thanks for reminding me, Tifa, I almost forgot that the 'good' Doctor was in a meeting. Just through here, if you please," Yuffie waved her hand to Tifa without looking, her sign for Tifa to follow her, and began to open the door.

In seconds the harsh, arguing voices stopped and the owners of those voices all turned to gaze at Yuffie and Tifa. Their expressions varied too. Some were outraged, some were shocked and some were ashamed. Ashamed as though they were small children getting caught in doing something they knew was wrong but did anyways.

Yuffie didn't seem to care that she was the target of all of these different types of stares and simply looked at Hojo and began to speak, "Miss Lockhart is here, Doctor Hojo."

Hojo was about to snarl, Tifa could tell, but was surprised to see him bite down the compulsion and dignify himself before responding through clenched teeth, "I can see that, Miss Kisaragi. However, I thought that I told you not to interrupt this meeting?" It wasn't _really_ a question but Yuffie loved pushing the Doctor's buttons.

"Well, I know that," Yuffie said, putting her hands on her hips and flipping her hair to tip her chin just a tad bit higher, "But you also told me to notify you the instant that Miss Lockhart arrived. You said that her patient was spec-" she was cut off before she could continue by Hojo's cold voice.

"I am aware of what I have told you, Miss Kisaragi! I believe that such a situation should have been analyzed and judged better on your part but then again perhaps I should have left the job to a more suitable employee. Perhaps one who is actually certified to work here and gets paid to make sure they do their job effectively, hmm?"

Yuffie was taken aback for just a moment before she snarled back, oblivious of all the alarmed and disgusted stares given to her by the members of the board, "Do you think I _want_ to be here? There was one hell of a lot of other places with better services!"

Hojo glared at her, "But they wouldn't take in a thief, would they? Kindly leave now, Miss Kisaragi. I have no further need of you here at the moment. Please go pay some much needed attention to the bed pans in ward 8, would you?"

Yuffie screeched in outrage before turning on heel, squaring her shoulders and walking back to the door, grabbing Tifa at the elbow as she went. Tifa let out a startled yelp at the contact, still in shock from the whole event, and was about to let Yuffie lead her out when Hojo cut them off once more.

"Just you, Miss Kisaragi!"

Yuffie huffed indignantly and stormed out, leaving a bewildered Tifa behind.

"So, you must be Miss Tifa Lockhart, the new volunteer that phoned us, yes?" Hojo asked softly, as though trying to coo to a startled animal that the cage wasn't what appeared to be.

Tifa rubbed at the back of her neck and smiled, "Yes, that would be me."

"The name sounds familiar," said a young man with shoulder length neat black hair and wearing a Turks suit. Tseng, leader of the Turks.

"Hmm…" said another voice softly and this one caught Tifa's attention more so than the soft-spoken Turk. The voice belonged to a blonde haired young man sitting on President ShinRa's left. With his bright blue eyes, his whiter than snow suit and sly smile there was no doubting it, he was Rufus ShinRa, Vice President of the ShinRa Electric Power Company, "Now that you mention it I must say that I agree…"

President ShinRa ignored his son and his lead Turk, turning his attention instead on Hojo, "This is the chosen young woman, Doctor?"

Hojo smiled looked at the President, all friendly smiles but his black eyes were cunning and sly. They were alight with a flare that came only from knowing something that someone else didn't know at their own expense.

"You are correct, President ShinRa. Miss Lockhart, say hello to the members of the board of the ShinRa Electric Power Company. It is truly a once in a lifetime opportunity that our young nurse has given to you."

Tifa blinked and straightened. As much as she hated ShinRa and the Turks, she would have to act cool. If they knew her true whereabouts and where her alliances actually lied, she would be failing Barrett and the children. She would be failing the future. She had come here to forget about the horrors of the past few days. To forget the pain of loss and the hatred that she had for ShinRa. Little did she know that she had actually walked right into a breeding ground for ShinRa scum. Not only that but she had walked right into the very people she hated above all else. If only she had a nice big bomb…or a magnum.

She forced a smile despite her rigid muscles and clenched teeth, "Hello."

Hojo began to point everyone out, starting from left to right of the table. First was a young woman with long blonde hair pulled back beautifully, her form the very meaning of the rose. Beautiful but deadly…she was sitting down with her long creamy legs crossed and one arm across her lap, hand close to her gun at her thigh, and her other arm resting lightly on the table. She reminded Tifa of a great cat. Beautiful and to all appearances resting, soaking in sunlight leisurely, but actually tense and ready to kill at a moments notice.

"Scarlet, Head of Weapons Development."

Next to her was a bulky man in green garb, his dark brownish black hair gelled back and his beard as long as it was bushy. He bore a thick ragged scar on the right side of his face and his eyes were commanding and harsh, regarding Tifa as though she were trash to be done away with.

"Head of Shinra's Public Safety Maintenance Department, Heidegger."

Then there was the young man with the shoulder length black hair. Tifa hadn't noticed him until he had spoken before and even then it was only for a moment. Now that Hojo was introducing her she noticed that he bore a red mark upon the middle of his forehead. She wondered idly if he was simply religious or if it had another purpose.

"Tseng, Leader of the Turks."

The next one to be introduced was the young male from before as well. The one with the neat blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. He regarded Tifa with a slight smirk, sizing her up curiously as though he knew something that not even the board members knew.

"Vice President Rufus ShinRa."

Then came a plump man nearing the end of his middle ages. He had a widow's peak, his golden hair gelled back professionally, and his mustache trimmed neatly. He had creases upon his face that showed how weathered he was and exactly what he had done to get to where he was. Tifa could tell it wasn't pretty.

"President ShinRa of the ShinRa Electric Power Company."

Then to his right was an empty seat, much to her surprise. She noted that no one had taken the seat to the right of ShinRa, no doubt a powerful and honorable place.

"Next to the empty seat was man nearing the end of his twenties and perhaps the middle of his thirties. His hair was parted at the front to sweep and frame his face with its middle length dark locks. This man bore a goatee, a friendly smile that didn't betray his eyes and vice versa, and was one of the few people who actually looked ashamed deep down in his gray orbs.

"Reeve Tuesti, the Head of the Urban Development Department."

Finally they reached the last occupied seat, which held a squat little man with wiry white hair, a circular face, and resembled a Muppet.

"Palmer, the former Head of the Space Exploration Program."

Palmer whined at the title but the President quickly cut in with a cold and angered voice, "Your department was a failure, Palmer. I should have had you thrown from the board. Be grateful and be quiet."

Palmer shut his trap from then on. Tifa looked to Hojo.

"I am, as you can tell, Doctor Simon Hojo, the Head of the Science Department and now the Head of the Medical Department as well," he said 'modestly' as he removed his glasses and washed them on his white lab coat before replacing them upon his nose.

"What of the empty seat?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Hojo said dismissively as he gathered the numerous and scattered papers on the large table, trying to hide them from sight without looking panicky or obvious.

"Oh, okay," Tifa said with a nod but she wasn't so easily fooled. She noted the seat once more and the evident respect for the owner of the seat's identity.

"Alright, Miss Lockhart, we'll let Doctor Hojo take a short break to discuss your new work. We have another matter at hand that doesn't concern the good Doctor anyway," said the President authoritatively.

Hojo glanced to the President from the corner of his eye before setting the papers down once more and turning to Tifa, "Lets head down to my office, Miss Lockhart."

With that said they gave their goodbyes and farewells before exiting the room and heading down the hall and to the right once more. Just as Tifa followed Hojo around a corner she thought she saw something.

Well, actually, someone. As she turned the corner she slowed, her curiosity grabbed by this figure. All she could catch before the wall completely blocked her view was a tall, black leather clad man with a long sword at his side and a beautiful mane of silver but when she backpedaled to look again the man was gone.

_The General?_

* * *

"Here are the keys to your apartment, Miss Lockhart. Please, have a seat."

Hojo's office wasn't actually all that spacious despite its large size. The man had more text, documents, plans, blueprints, files and equipment than the Hospital itself. Hojo was currently seated behind a large mahogany desk, riffling through some papers that were laid out for him halfheartedly.

Tifa was seated in a seat opposite of Hojo and was fiddling with the edges of the envelope that held her keys. The silence in the room was thick for a moment before Tifa finally gave in to her curiosity. She knew something was wrong with this picture. Volunteers simply would not be given cases special enough to get briefings straight from the head of the Hospital. "Is there anything I should know about this patient, Doctor Hojo?"

Hojo glanced up at her from beneath his glasses, "Hm?"

"I overheard a bit of your conversation from before. You were talking about his arm, weren't you? The Ulna, Radius, the Carpals, Metacarpals, and Phalanges are all parts of the human arm. Has he undergone specific surgery? Is something wrong with him?"

"Mr. Crescent is a…special case, I suppose you could say. He went mad a year or two back and due to the extensive medication needed for his treatment, he can't move or speak. His motor functions have been, basically numbed and shut down."

"Then why were you…"

"It was just a theory of mine, Miss Lockhart. Something that Vincent might undergo later, when he is better suited for surgery. As far as some things you might need to know, I can't think of any other than the fact that you'll have to figure him out on your own. You'll learn, don't worry. I certainly can't begin to describe him to you…"

"I don't get a file or anything on him?" Tifa asked curiously, one eyebrow quirked.

"Patient confidentiality, Miss Lockhart. I'm afraid not," Hojo responded, glancing back to his work before glancing up to Tifa again when he noticed her silent stare.

"Could I…see him? I would like to just get a quick look. You don't even have to introduce us. I just want to see," Tifa rambled.

After a pause Hojo nodded and stood, "Of course. You can see him on your way out."

* * *

The walk to the room had been a long one. Turned out that Vincent's room was on the highest level of the facility, a good couple of floors away from Hojo's office. Along the way Hojo had passed the time telling Tifa about the Hospital, its patients and how they were treating 'special cases' that no other Hospital would take. He also mentioned that it was a Hospital supported and funded by ShinRa and that it was a learning Hospital where new trainees could get experience.

They were halfway down the hallway to Vincent's room, a hallway that looked like any other cheery hospital hallway, when the calm was disturbed once more.

Alarms blared from a nurses' station that happened to be between Hojo, Tifa and where Vincent's room was. Nurses and medical personnel poured out and ran down the hallway, skidding to a halt at a room that happened to be the only one with a closed door. Shouldering it open, they stormed in.

The room happened to belong to Vincent 'Crescent' and Hojo's eyes went saucer wide when he noticed what was happening. He stomached down the shock and rushed to the room, Tifa lingered behind as she watch Hojo round the corner into the room, white coat flapping behind him.

Slowly she drew closer and closer to the room as though drawn to it. She didn't truly want to see but she couldn't resist…

As she got closer the beeps of a monitor greeted her ears along with the hurried voices within.

"What happened?" Hojo snarled over the blare of the monitors.

"We think it was an overdose, sir!"

"How? He can't move! Who gave it to him?" Hojo screeched, his voice stilted as though he were panting.

"We don't know!"

Tifa finally rounded the corner to look inside, just past the slightly open door, to see a bundle of nurses and doctors rushing around the Hospital room.

The man under the blankets was seizing fiercely, his eyes open and white from the result of them being rolled in the back of his head. His mouth was open in a silent scream, his pale skin sweaty and clammy. His long messy black locks were plastered to his skin and she noticed that someone or something had rubbed his wrists raw.

She brushed the thought aside, captivated by the sight. It was a like a car accident. You want to look away but you can't…

"We're losing him!"

"Find out how he acquired the medication!"

"How could he have overdosed?"

"I thought he couldn't move!"

The long wail of the monitor calling out made everyone pause for just a breath of time, and all of them gazed at the monitor in slight disbelief. Looking back to the patient, they noticed the deathly stillness of him. Moments ago his muscles were seizing spastically and now he was calmer than the dead itself.

"Get out the air valve mask! Manually check his pulse, now!"

In seconds, one of the nurses was pulling off the plastic wrapping of a air valve mask, adjusting it, and putting it together while another nurse rushed to Vincent's neck. Bringing her ear close to his mouth she began to count. When ten seconds was up she motioned over to the nurse with the valve. She adjusted the mask on to fit over his nose and mouth, gave it two slight squeezes, watching the chest rise all the while, before removing the mask and allowing the other nurse to reposition herself over the victim, and check for breath, and pulse. Her long slender fingers found there way to where the pulse should be, tracing down the beginning of the jawbone and under slightly. Counting once more and running out of time, she shook her head, and gave out the call.

"Begin administering CPR!"

"One and two and three and…" Tifa began to ignore the calls of the third nurse who had already positioned their hands upon Vincent's chest, and was counting out in order to let the other two nurses know when to administer the soft squeezes of oxygen from the valve.

It felt like a lifetime before things began to calm down. The nurses would stop, recheck his vitals around every two minutes, and then pick up where they left off until finally the monitor's blare ended, becoming short choppy sounds instead of one long endless one. Tifa saw it all. She saw them slowly get the man's vitals to where they needed to be, and saw, just as they were preparing for whatever their next step was, the man stir and awaken somewhat.

She got a quick glimpse of the man's eyes before Hojo noticed her and ordered for the door to be closed immediately and as she numbly tore her gaze away from the door after a few minutes and began the long trek back to the cab she could only think of one thing.

Those beautiful red eyes and how sorrowful they looked.

She had never seen any other that looked more beautiful and wanted to die more than they did.

With a sigh, she left the Hospital just a tad bit more sorrowful than she entered it.

_I'm so sorry…_

* * *

**Sorry for the long wait, guys, I've been working a lot more than usual lately. I hope you like the chapter and I hope it held some surprises for you. I know some pieces are a bit out of character for some of the characters but as the fic progresses they'll get back in line. This is all supposed to happen.**

**Thank you all so much for all of your support! I really appreciate it and I hope all of you continue to review, good or bad! I love comments and every little detail helps, guys! Thanks again!**

**-Spazzy**

**[EDIT Thank you** Sargent Snarky **for alerting me to the area where I left out a huge chunk of text! Much love to you!**


	3. Warm Smiles, Sad Faces

_**Music: **__Message For The Queen – 300 OST_

Chapter 3: Warm Smiles, Sad Faces

Tifa sighed as she finally rounded the corner that led to her apartment. She glanced once more to her key and the little tag connected to it.

_Room Number 203_

Tifa watched the brass numbered doors pass by as she paced the narrow halls of the complex. Finally she found her apartment on the second floor on the complex. The steep hills of the land causing the second floor to appear much higher than it actually should have been on level ground. Glancing over her shoulder once to look through the hall window and out at the mountains of Nibelheim, she pressed the key into the lock with a quick click and unlocked the door to Room 203.

As she pressed her palms against the door and got it moving, the '2' of her room numbers wobbled and slid sideways just the slightest bit. She sighed but ignored it and took the first tentative step into her new home.

The apartment wasn't crummy nor was it anything extravagant. It simply was and despite what she though, it was bigger than most. Not as big, of course, as her bar, but it was a nice, roomy size. Two bedrooms, one full bathroom, one kitchen, a living, and dining area, not to mention the splendid view she had from her balcony just outside of the living room. She smiled, enjoying the gray light that filtered through the windows. The rain had let up for a while now but the sky was still dark and ominous, threatening to flood Nibelheim with the waters it held.

Forcing herself to look away from the skies just outside of the window, Tifa turned once more to look at her surroundings, noting this time the furnishing she had been given.

She had been giving precious little…

A refrigerator, washer and dryer, dishwasher, a couch and a small TV. A quick glance at the two bedrooms showed, to her relief, that each had a bed and mattress, with a dresser and mirrors. The bathroom was also furnished as all bathrooms should and worked as well as any other she had seen. But it was obvious that whoever was here last took some of the furnisher that was not supposed to be taken. She would have to go shopping…nothing to large, of course, but if she was staying here while the children were gone, she couldn't very well live in such conditions or lack there of.

Sighing she through herself onto the, surprisingly, comfortable couch and ran her thin, long fingers through her hair, letting her head hang.

"Found the room?" came a voice from the hall, causing Tifa's head to snap up and look in that direction.

"Wha? Oh, I forgot! Sorry, yes. This is it," she smiled but her smile quickly fell at the sight of the luggage sitting next to the man, "You didn't lug up that stuff by yourself, did you?"

The taxi cab driver shrugged and smiled under his hat and from behind the thick, warm collar of his coat, "Really, its not a problem."

Tifa smiled apologetically before waving him in and walking over to grab her own share of the baggage to tug in. Pulling it to the middle of the apartment, she watch the man as he readjusted his hat, somehow still keeping most of his features shadowed, and took a look around, "It ain't much…"

She smiled warmly, finishing the sentence in tune with him, "but its home."

He glanced to her and for a moment she though she saw him smile but the moment vanished quicker than it came, leaving her filled with doubt.

"Well…thank you for everything, Mister…?"

The figure paused before answering, "Fair."

"Mr. Fair," Tifa smiled but within she felt her heart sink. For a long moment, she could of sworn that the young man was Cloud, "How much do I owe you for everything that you've done?" she asked with a smile, reaching into her pocket for her wallet.

Mr. Fair told her the amount gently, the price surprisingly cheap, and when the transaction was done he gathered himself up and began to walk to the door. When he made it to the doorframe, Tifa stopped him.

"Sir?"

Mr. Fair stopped but did not bother to turn and face her, "Yes?"

Tifa remained in place in the middle of her apartment, the storm in the window outlining her hopeful frame. Softly, she asked, "I'm looking for someone…for a while, I thought he was you."

The man glanced over his shoulder to look at her but Tifa had already turned away to look out the window. By doing so, she missed the curiously bright shade of blue within those eyes that peeked out from under his hat, "Is that so?"

Tifa nodded, humming her confirmation, before turning on heel to gaze at him, her long black locks swirling at the movement. She smiled warmly but sadly, "If you find a man named Cloud Strife…tell him I'm waiting for him?"

The man paused before tipping his face downwards and looked away, "Of course."

"Thank you."

"Hmm," he murmured softly before making his way out of the apartment and back to his cab. When he was safely out of earshot and sight, he pulled off his hat to run one gloved hand through unruly, spiky blonde locks, before replacing the hat upon his head.

_After all, I did make a promise._

* * *

After the young man left her apartment, Tifa found the loneliness to seep in through the cracks of the silence around her like a plague. Quickly she tied up her hair and set about making herself busy. The last thing she wanted was to think of the depression she left, hopefully, back in Midgar. 

She unpacked her bags, placing her clothing neatly into their assigned places. She set up her stuff in the bathroom and put up some liquor she had brought with her. Only her favorite brands and bottles made the trip with her, along with her prized glasses. She placed them away delicately but carefully and in easy reach.

She put up a few books upon the empty couch, placed a few movies next to the TV and set up a blanket for the couch before finding herself to be out of things to do. A quick glance at the watch she had brought with her told her it was close to ten pm. She wasn't exactly tired but she couldn't exactly go out to get the stuff she needed at this hour.

"I'm not anywhere near being tired," Tifa huffed softly, crossing her arms and looking over her apartment for any faults she could fix to pass the time with. Finding none, she crossed to the TV and flipped it on. Whilst skimming the channels from the kitchen via remote, she began to pour herself a small drink.

When her small glass was half full she carried it back to the couch, settled down into its comfy embrace and continued to surf the channels of the TV.

_Nothing good is every on…_

She sighed after ten minutes of surfing before giving up her search and throwing the remote unto the couch.

_"It has never left my finger…" she said softly, her eyes watery and sad, her hand raised to show the other man a small, fragile piece of string which was tied around it, "I've always loved. I'll always love you,"_

Suddenly the movie title popped into Tifa's head. _The Counte of Monte Cristo. _She had never gotten the chance to watch the movie but she could tell that she had missed a good portion of it. Despite this, she decided to watch it and to rent the movie later to find out what she missed. However, as she watched, she found her mind wandering.

With each sip of her warm drink she found her thoughts growing hazy from the exhaustion of traveling which, as of yet, hadn't presented itself. Now it was hitting her ten times over and when her drink was down and the glass cast aside, she leaned just a little further back into the cozy couch.

With each passing moment her eyes felt just little harder to hold open than before. Before she knew it, she was asleep, the movie still playing, her worries lost in a far away place and only one thing continued to present itself in her minds eye.

_Vincent…Crescent…_

* * *

_His eyes were so sad, so very sad. The fact that the man from the hospital was now sitting freely on her couch wasn't concerning her rational thinking at the moment. It was the smaller things that had caught her attention. Like how his raven hair was messy but in such a way that it didn't really matter, the look seemed to suit him. Like how his eyes were a deep blazing and fiery red color, glowing through the darkness, orange tingeing the iris around the pupils._

_Like the fact that he was sitting on her couch as though he were a close friend about to tell her that someone they all cherished had just died…or that he was about to. He seemed resigned, perched on the very edge of the couch cushions, his arms resting on his knees loosely. _

_He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and black sweats and briefly she wondered if this was what he wore in the hospital as well…she'd have to check._

_Tifa was still curled up on the couch, unaware of just how cold the room had gotten, the TV bringing the room into a series of flickering lights, which changed with the scenes on the TV. The movie from before was over now, replaced by the late night news. _

_"You shouldn't be here," he finally said, tipping his head to look her in the eye. His voice was deep, quiet and a tad bit rough from disuse. She had to fight the feeling of just becoming lost in the sound of it as it threatened to lure her further into sleep. _

_Tifa blinked, registering what he said, and scowled, "And why not? I have just as much of a right as any to be here!"_

_Vincent sighed, shaking his head, "That's not what I meant. Nibelheim…isn't a place for people with futures. It's a deathbed for any who live here and all connected to them. Please, just leave before what happened to me happens to you too."_

_"What happened to you?" Tifa asked, straightening._

_Vincent's eyes immediately grew cold and guarded and he seemed to be resisting the urge to growl before speaking again, "If you stay, you won't have a life to go back to. Everyday you remain her is another day closer to losing everything you have waiting for you back home. Please…" _

_Tifa could tell the man was a man of few words and she was caught between the surprise of him talking to her at all and of what he was trying to warn her of. _

_"I can't leave."_

_Vincent turned to look at her, caught between anger, sorrow and surprise, "Why not?"_

_Tifa shook her head, "I'm not ready to face what lies behind me, back at home. When I'm good and ready, I'll leave but until then," she smiled, "your stuck with me until my heart is properly healed."_

_In his wide-eyed gaze she made a number of discoveries. Those wide eyes seemed to glow a fearsome red but not just that but it was his reaction. His reaction, not so much to her words, but to her smile, she realized. _

_He seemed pained, looking at her warm smile. His eyes were unguarded and painfully sad and vulnerable. He seemed to be seeing past her and looking at someone only he could see and the look he was giving the woman only he could see hurt Tifa. She didn't want to hurt him…he didn't deserve any more pain. _

_She edged closer and he didn't seem to notice until the palm of her hand was flush with his right cheek._

_"Whom do you see?" she whispered._

_It was then that Vincent snapped out of it, his eyes jerking to look her in the eye, still quite wide. He watched her for a moment until that guarded look returned to his gaze. He frowned and said softly, "I see history repeating itself."_

_Drawing back out of her soft grip, he stood, "I have no more time."_

_And suddenly the darkness of the room seemed to conjugate beneath him and grow up along him until it swallowed him whole. Then the darkness spread again and she was left alone. _

_The TV broke the silence, "While the funeral of Vincent Valentine has already taken place, ShinRa invites any whom wish to visit one of their sorely missed employees to feel free to do so. The Turk's grave is in the graveyard of the Nibelheim cathedral. Sadly, no remains are within the Turk's casket but his prized guns have been buried, instead, in his honor."_

_**Vincent…Valentine…**_

* * *

Tifa awoke slowly, the cozy warmth around her making her feel nostalgic and unwilling to awaken. The morning was a soft gray, not truly sunny but not as dark as before. A simply threat of rain carried on the clouds and while she preferred snow above all weather, she wouldn't mind the soft pattering of rain to take over the silence of her apartment. 

Sometime during the night, she assumed, she had gotten up to grab the blanket from the couch and to turn off the TV because said TV was off and the blanket was draped gently around her curled form. But a soft scent clung to the blankets that reminded her of rubbing alcohol, a storm, rain and male. _A dream…?_

Going through her morning routine, she felt as though she was something mechanical. She did not think, she did not feel… she simply was. Her body went through everything, seemingly, on its own accord. Her body brushed her teeth, her body washed within the shower, her body dried itself, her body brushed her hair, her body relieved itself, and her body got changed. All the while, she was not within her body, not really. Everything, even with the time between now and learning of her comrades' death, still felt so very surreal.

But when her body tried to force her to feed, she pushed her hands into the liquor cabinet instead.

She had just finished pouring the fiery liquid into a glass when her phone rang. Topping off the bottle and setting it back in its place, she grabbed her small phone and flipped it open, allowing one slender finger to trace the rim of her glass as she spoke, "Tifa Lockhart speaking."

"Miss Lockhart, hello!" a voice, eerily happy, sang over the phone line in a squawking tone, "How was your evening? I hope you found your apartment to be acceptable."

"My evening was quiet…but I found the place okay and its simply wonderful. I can't thank the hospital enough for allowing me to stay here free of cost!" Tifa said softly and truly, still tracing the rim of her glass thoughtfully.

"Very good, very good."

Tifa paused and the awkward silence that lasted between them made her finger stop its movements around the tip of her cup. She looked up to the ceiling and sighed softly, "Sorry if this sounds rude, Doctor Hojo, but is there any other reason to this call?" she glanced to the clock on the oven and was surprised that it was so early, "Its nearly 7 am, if I'm late for my shift, I wasn't aware that there was a change in the hours I was to work."

"Oh no, no, nothing like that, dear!" Hojo chuckled, sending shivers down her spine, "I was calling to let you know that you can take this weekend off. Today, Saturday, and Sunday."

Tifa blinked and couldn't hide the surprise from her voice. She had come to this accursed place for something to keep her busy and here he was, telling her she could take the weekend off? Oh hell no.

"I'm sorry…but I was under the impression I was to be taking care of Mr. Crescent. He _did _recover, right? I mean…" the sudden thought rammed her heart like a ton of bricks and she hated herself for the selfishness she had felt earlier. What if the poor man was dead?

"No," Hojo chuckled throatily, "Vincent is not dead. He recovered but we had to take him into surgery shortly after you left. A few hours later, actually, and he was under the knife for quite sometime. I'd like to keep an eye on him for a short amount of time, to make sure he properly recovers and that there are no…unseen side effects," he seemed to be enjoying this part of the conversation somehow and the words felt more like masks, hiding secrets she wasn't sure she wanted to know. But he was a Doctor…he wouldn't hurt Vincent…

"Anyways, I see no need for you to spend you time watching him if I am doing the same, Miss Lockhart. So you can take the weekend off. Go check out the town. Get some things to personalize your apartment, perhaps? It will be Monday before you know it and you can have Vincent all to yourself."

He spoke of the man as though he were a toy to pass around and share. She scowled at the thought. Hojo had saved Vincent's life the other day and took time from his schedule to personally operate on him, to ensure that he would live. It was horrible of her to think otherwise!

"Hm…okay. Well, I'm glad to hear that he is okay. Thank you for the time off, sir," Tifa said softly, "Are you sure there is nothing else I can do?"

Hojo sounded peeved when he answered, "I do not currently have time to give you a new assignment, Miss Lockhart, nor does any of the staff have the time to teach you skills you will not need to know for Vincent's case. We received quite a few volunteers so do not worry about other jobs. You worry about Vincent and your job when Monday comes around. Otherwise, I do not expect to see you come in for work this weekend, Miss Lockhart."

He wrinkled her nose and stared at the phone in anger. How _dare_ he?

The voice on the other end let out a long sigh and she had the faint impression that he was rubbing the skin of his nose where his glasses normally sat as he said, "I did not mean to sound so harsh, Miss Lockhart. Last night was a long one and the operation was complicated. I lack the rest I need and I'm a bit snappish at the moment. Please forgive me. Will we not need your services until Monday. I hope this does not inconvenience you."

Tifa sighed again, self-hatred boiling in her stomach. Why was she so quick to find faults within this man? He had spent his whole night saving a man and all she could do was try to find reasons to hate him. She closed her eyes, clutching her glass tight, "Its okay, Doctor Hojo. You're right; it must've been a long night for you. I understand. I'll see you Monday."

She could practically see Hojo smiling that horrid, crooked smile, "See you Monday."

There was a soft click and Tifa opened her eyes. She took a breath and realized that it felt as though she had been holding it through the conversation. He was a good man so why did she hate him so much?

Her thoughts wandered to that of the Turk whom was buried the other day and her stomach boiled with rage. That was a man to dislike. A dog of ShinRa through and through. Sure, Hojo was of the ShinRa Corporation but he was a man dedicated to saving lives. He was probably the only good man on the team. The Turk was a murderer, someone to be hated. The Doctor saved lives, a man to be praised…

But somehow it felt wrong, so very wrong.

Then her thoughts wandered to the operation she had overheard Hojo talking about the other day. It sounded as though he was going to reconstruct someone's forearm and when she had questioned the Doctor about it, he said it was an operation he had been thinking about performing upon Vincent. But the Board Members had also talked about Materia and WEAPONs…What did it all mean? Her brow creased with her frustration and angrily she rubbed her forehead with one hand.

Suddenly the apartment seemed so hot and stuffy. She needed to get out. She needed to get her mind off of everything expect simply existing.

It was with this final thought that she had grabbed her long black coat, a maroon scarf and her leather gloves, also her fighting gloves, and left her apartment. Within her coat she had her keys, her wallet and some spare cash. She didn't bother to bring her phone or anything else. She would separate herself from everything today, even if it killed her.

Slipping on a pair of shoes, she hadn't even realize how she was dressed but nor did she care.

She left her apartment and locked it without looking back.

She completely forgot the discarded glass filled with liquor that sat upon her counter top within the apartment.

* * *

The walk had been a long one but it was worth it, to see the sights of Nibelheim once more. Her black trainers were comfortable and were a good choice for her decision on transportation. Her clothing had kept her warm despite the cool mountain air. She wore simple blue jeans, torn at one knee, with a loose black leather belt. Her top was a simple long sleeved shirt and overtop of it lay her long black coat, her scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. The dark red of the scarf seemed to emphasize her eyes and that was a trait that made her grow so attached to the long, woolen thing. 

Tugging the collar of her coat a tad bit closer, she continued down the path as the silhouette of Nibelheim began to grow within her eyesight. Unlike the world outside the village, the town was not as she remembered.

As she entered the town square, she took in the new sights. The weaponry shop, the clothing store, the café, and everything else that once stood here was gone, replaced by little stores that looked like they came straight out of the richest of movies. The little unknown café was turned into a hot spot. The weaponry store was on the top level of a two-story building, the store under it holding Materia of all shapes, sizes and design. The little clothing shop around the corner was replaced with a full shopping center with all kinds of different shops. The little church she used to love to visit, much like the one in the SECTOR 7 slums of Midgar, was no where to be seen. To her left was a shop with a large window. Within were the small furry faces of puppies, all yapping and pawing at the window once they noticed her presence just outside their window.

She took one spinning step to look at her new surroundings. It was like one of the better SECTORS of Midgar and something told Tifa that one day, this place might end up being just as big.

And yet, on the horizon, she could still see the unmistakable shadow of the ShinRa Manor. A place that, long ago, was the source of all of their harsh childish games… Dared to run up the hills of Nibelheim to the dark Manor's doorstep, children of all ages would cower in the shadow of the menacing building. It was deserted now and believed to be haunted for long before her birth, the villagers complained of odd sounds and noises emitting from the foundations. Since then, ShinRa evacuated the building, cut it off from the village as best it could without destroying it.

"Don't mind my asking, but how could you possibly be admiring the ShinRa Manor? I find it quite depressing, myself."

Tifa jumped, startled by the sudden presence of someone being right beside her. She twirled to look at the person addressing her and froze.

He was handsome in that way that made you feel warm and secure to be around. His eyes, hidden by a rather peculiar pair of sunglasses, were somehow still visible and were a beautiful shade, which gave her the impression that somehow they glowed. His hair, on the long side of the spectrum, was gun smoke gray and done up in an array of spikes. His smile made her heart leap, it suited him so well and made his face just glow with warmth. His head was tilted curiously as he looked at her, his question completely and wholeheartedly baffled.

His long black winter coat was zipped up nice and tight. A light gray scarf was wound around his neck and the loose ends tucked into his jacket front, just under the zipper's top most place. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he was just slightly taller than she.

"I mean, I don't mean to be offensive," he said suddenly, his smile faltering, "I just assumed everyone felt the same way about that place."

"Oh…oh! Of course," Tifa smiled apologetically, "I definitely know what you mean. That place gives me the creeps…"

His chuckle was rich and deep in his throat, making her smile, "Because it looks so dark and spooky?" he asked playfully.

"Because it seems so sad."

The man beside her let his grin fall into a shocked expression. He turned to look at her fully then, his question obvious in his pause and his stance.

"Do you think that a place has memories? Like fingerprints, once a moment happens within, the memory stays behind…that's what I think. So I think that the reason everyone truly doesn't like it…is because it is so sad, so angry," she looked at him, "So hurt."

The man paused, looking at her for a short moment before slowly pulling his gaze back to the Manor on the horizon. He took a short intake of breath in surprise before continuing softly, "I never thought about it like that before…but now that you mention it, I see what you mean. It looks a lot darker now that I look at it like that. And a lot less harmless."

Tifa nodded and together they watched the Manor for a moment before Tifa realized that he was still there. She looked at him curiously and the feeling of eyes upon him made him stir from his own thoughts as well.

"Oi!" he said, his hand reaching up to scratch his neck in embarrassment, "I can't believe I haven't introduced myself! I'm Zack, Zack Fair, pleased to meet you Miss…"

"Tifa extended her hand to grab the one he offered and smiled, "Tifa Lockhart, and don't worry, I didn't bother to introduce myself either. We're allowed to wander off in thought sometimes, so I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

Zack smiled and shook her hand energetically, "Yeah, yeah! I'm with you there!"

Tifa laughed softly and pulled her hand back as he let go, returning it to the cozy spot in her coat where it was before. Zack did the same and for a moment they were quiet once again. She noticed the way Zack fidgeted as the pause between them dragged. It wasn't as though he was nervous so much as he didn't seem to enjoy stillness or silence.

"Hey, you looked a little overwhelmed earlier. If you want, I'll show you around town."

Tifa looked at him warily before a little voice sprung up in her head.

_A fresh beginning, if only for just a little while. Forget about everything and just breathe, just be._

She nodded, "Yeah, that would be great, thanks."

Zack's smile, if possible, widened and he motioned for her to follow. Together they walked the streets of Nibelheim, Zack guiding her every step of the way.

"Are you from this town, Zack?" Tifa asked curiously after he pointed out the main street where the annual fair came around with a parade of dancers, musicians, and large floating balloons, among other things, which would be coming around again sometime soon.

Zack blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, but quickly regained his happy composure, "No, actually, I'm not. But I come down here often because of work so I know this place like the back of my hand. It was actually pretty great, us meeting, 'cause I was having one hell of a time trying to get away from my roommate back at the hotel. He's great and all, I have loads of respect for the man, but whenever he comes down here its like he is a completely different guy. I mean, this one time-"

"-What do you do for work?" Tifa cut in, eyeing a nice looking restaurant just down the street.

Right then, Zack's stomach gave a whiney roar, demanding food. The couple looked at his belly in awe, as did numerous others that were near them on the road. Zack chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed his neck as he softly changed the subject, "Do you mind if we go and catch a bite to eat? There wasn't anything good to eat at the hotel this morning.

Tifa smiled, "No worries."

* * *

Picking a small deli along the way, they overlooked the menu and ordered separately. When their food was ready, they took their trays, found a table by the front window, and sat down. 

Tifa was amazed at how much her newfound friend could eat but she didn't let her mind stay on that for too long. This Zack fellow reminded her so much of Cloud. Sure, Cloud wasn't always the happiest of people like the man before her but she could she that flare in his eyes that Cloud had. Determination, love, loyalty, pride… Gaia, how she missed him!

Thinking of Cloud, her mind wandered to the taxi driver from the other day and briefly she wondered how he was doing. Was he, at this very minute, driving another young lady just like herself? Or maybe a elderly male, eager to return to the love of his life whom he had been with for how many years? Thinking this way, of how many lives one hand can effect, she felt both very small and very large. She was in awe.

"'Ou know, I really 'ate tha' 'ospital!" Zack said through a large bite of his sandwich.

Tifa blinked, looking to him curiously, "Why?"

Zack swallowed his food, wincing at the pain of gulping down to much food in one try, before continuing, "There are plenty of reasons. Like how every single person from that hospital isn't a citizen of Nibelheim, which is pretty weird. Like how that crazy lead Doctor goes out of his way to do surgeries! Man, I really wish he wasn't the man I have to go see for my _yearly_. I know I'm not the only one who hates that man. I mean, if you heard what the guys back at-"

"What do you mean, 'every single person from that hospital isn't a citizen of Nibelheim'? No way!"

"Yes way," Zack nodded somberly, "And, all of the people in there don't have any families, either. Why else do you think there are never any visitors? I probably shouldn't even be saying any of this but then again, they never tell us anything so why should I care?"

"Who?"

Zack looked at Tifa like she was someone who hadn't been in civilization for years, "Who else? Sh- oh look!"

Tifa jumped, slowly following Zack's sudden pointing finger, which was aiming out of the window beside them and to the store just across the street. A sign was in the window…

**SALE**

**EVERYTHING MUST GO**

**NICE FURNITURE GOING CHEAP**

**SALE ENDS TODAY!**

"You said earlier you needed some stuff to warm up your place, right?" Zack said eagerly, quite nearly bouncing up and down in his seat, their previous conversation quite obviously forgotten.

Tifa smiled and nodded, "Yeah but I don't know if I want to be buying furniture right now. At this rate Hojo might send me back home so he can keep an eye on his precious patient himself."

Zack looked back to her slowly with a pale face, "You aren't one of his lab assistants, are you? Please don't tell him anything I said! I don't want to be-"

"-Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm not his lab assistant, I'm a volunteer at the hospital and don't worry, I won't tell him any of your secrets," she laughed,

Zack seemed to settle a bit upon hearing this. He huffed his relief before looking at her strangely, "Now why are you volunteering at _that_ hospital?"

"I just…needed to get away and forget some things. The ad said the hospital would give me free room and board. It was a good way to escape it all, that's all."

Zack shook his head, "I would forget about this patient and just go home! Get away from Hojo while you can."

"I can't just forget about him. If you had seen him, Zack…actually, he sort of reminds me of the ShinRa Manor."

Zack looked at her curiously, "Why do you say that? Does he look like an old building?"

Tifa giggled, "No, he just has that same air about him. Sadness and anger and lost hope."

"Doesn't sound like there is much reason to stay if you have to deal with a depressing guy and Hojo all the time. Why not find a different job?" Zack asked eagerly.

Tifa grinned, "It's beginning to sound like you're trying to get rid of me, Mr. Fair."

Zack paled, "No, no! That's not what I mean-"

Tifa shushed him with a wave of her hand and smiled, "Don't worry about it."

"So who is this patient?" Zack asked after another large swallow of food.

"I believe Doctor Hojo called him Mr. Crescent, Vincent Crescent."

Zack just about choked on his food once he heard it. After a few hard slaps on the back from Tifa and much coughing, Zack managed to wheeze in some air.

"Are you alright?! You really shouldn't take such large bites!"

"Did you say Vincent Valentine?!" Zack wheezed.

Tifa's brows drew close in confusion, "No, why would I be talking about that murdering Turk?"

Zack looked up at her for a moment as realization hit him square in the face. This was one of the many victims of ShinRa who clumped all the employees together, no matter if they were truly good at heart or not. Suddenly glad for never getting the chance to talk of his profession, he said, "ShinRa isn't all black and white, you know. Poor guy doesn't even have a family to be there at his service. From what I hear, it's going to be pretty empty at his grave. No flowers, nothing…."

"Who cares?" Tifa snapped.

Zack looked at her sadly, "Who didn't know him. What if he did deserve a few flowers on his grave?"

Tifa crossed her arms, "Did you know him?"

"Well, no, but I've-"

"Case closed. He was probably just another ShinRa crook!" Tifa said softly.

Zack simply watched her for a long moment, obviously disappointed with her behavior, before speaking, "I wanted to visit his grave today. I was hoping that you would accompany me, since its hard entering a graveyard alone, but if that's how you feel then I won't bother asking…"

Zack stood, grabbing his tray to throw away, when Tifa's fingers brushed his own, "I'm sorry…its just, I'm not a fan of ShinRa…Never have been and as of late, I never will be. But I'll go with you. There is a grave there I'd like to see myself…"

Zack smiled softly, "Thanks."

* * *

Pain, so much pain! It was racing up and down his arm, making his nerves scream, and thus frying his brain with signal overdose. The ceiling above him was blurry, coming in and out of focus as he blinked. Where was he? Why was he here? 

"Ah Vincent! So nice of you to join us! What are you doing awake now, Turk? It's hardly the time to wake up. Miss Kisaragi, please monitor his anesthesia better, he's waking up!" Hojo squealed.

Vincent winced and tried to make sense of it all as another white-hot wave of pain flooded his senses. He could hear muffled crying before the gas pressing against his nose blew harder.

"Goodnight, Vincent."

The darkness spirited him away once again but as it did, he could have sworn he heard the snickering of voices that definitely didn't belong to Hojo or the crying little girl.

* * *

The grave was still as white and cold as she remembered it, making her heart race with pain. Why was she doing this? Wasn't the whole reason behind going here to get away from the pain and yet here she was, standing in front of her father's grave. The first person in her life ever to be murdered by ShinRa and certainly not the last. 

Crossing her arms tighter to keep the warmth that the winds kept stealing away, she turned to look at Zack a few graves away.

The grave he stood at was obviously new and the grass, which hid the gun filled casket looked freshly stirred.

She didn't care to read any of the vitals of his grave other than what rested just below the name and the date. It wasn't a quote ShinRa would put on there, she was sure, so who did?

**cineri gloria sera est**

"I wonder what it says," Zack whispered softly as Tifa grew near.

Tifa looked at those words for a long time, letting the curling letters sink in, before speaking. It was obvious that someone other than the original maker of the gravestone carved this in somehow.

"Glory Paid to Ashes Comes too Late."

Zack and Tifa stood there for a long while, the wind brushing against them lovingly, watching the unmoving grave of a man never found by the uncaring eyes of society, hidden in the lies of ShinRa.

* * *

"Who is there?" 

_**"So the lad**_ does _**speak! You've been sleeping for quite sometime, boy,"**_said a slow hissing voice, its breath hitched and hindered as if masked away.

_ "Hush, Hellmasker, don't go and frighten our host!" _said another voice calmly, its voice cold, calculated and oddly deep, as though carved from the growls of a predator.

_**"You take out all the fun, Galian! I can **_feel _**his nightmares, his pains. Oh, how I could use them!"**_

_"If you make our host go mad, where will we be then?"_

_**"He is already mad, Galian. Look at how his rage boils, how he hates his confined life, how he regrets and how murderous he is. I say we have fun while we can. You know what the good Doctor said during surgery…"**_

"What's going on?! Who are you?!" Vincent screamed helplessly within his mind, caught between reality and dream.

_"Yes, he will be awakening the gift that the woman gave him very soon. Says that if he takes him __**there**__ then he'll finally have his true last laugh against this boy."_

_**"We won't be dominant anymore if he does so. That presence will smother us into nothing but summons, just as we were before!"**_

"What are you talking about? Answer me!" Vincent snarled, his eyes glowing as bright as fire in the darkness.

The hissing creature, Hellmasker, cackled, _**"Oh! I think we've angered our dear host, Galian!"**_

The other creature merely laughed, "_You'll find out in due time, boy. Until then, heal."_

Vincent could feel the darkness dragging him deeper, to a place where his mind could find no foothold to use to think with and as he slipped away, he felt the strains of whatever Hojo had done to him and he could feel the creatures within slowly healing him.

_…Lucrecia…_

And Vincent faded away.

* * *

**I'm so sorry that took so long! I've been working a lot lately so I've only had an hour through thirty minutes to write each night. I hope the length makes it okay…I know a lot of you have enjoyed the last two chapters so I hope this one hasn't ruined it, I know it was a bit boring!**

**I love reviews; I really do, of ALL shapes, kinds, sizes and feelings.**

**Spazzy**

PS: This is not spell checked, probably never will be. -;;


	4. Conventional Uses For Materia

**Music: Imaginary – Evanescence Origin (Piano Version) **

Chapter 4: Conventional Uses For Materia

Tifa returned that night to her mostly empty apartment with a mildly happy warmth within her. She shrugged off her warm winter wear and kicked off her shoes as she made her way inside of the apartment.

She was happy to have visited her Father's grave and despite the depressing mood of the graveyard, she felt more at peace now that she had confronted the minor fear of facing that graveyard again. Despite the years that had passed, Tifa could still remember that heart stopping pain, seeing her Father die. She knew that ShinRa was to blame but she could not think of why or who would do that. What purpose and what benefit would ShinRa gain from killing her Father? She honestly didn't know.

However, the night her Father was killed, she had a dream. A dream filled with fire and hate and burning madness. Of a long shining sword and a man sitting in the inferno which had been Nibelheim, once upon a time. Sephiroth. A whisper across her memories but she couldn't think as to why.

Sephiroth, the General of ShinRa's armies and rumored to be the most powerful man alive… She had to admit, that man did have an otherworldly vibe to him and she could easily believe that behind all of his raw muscle and his cunning green gaze, that he was the most powerful man in this world. She could only wonder if, behind his powerful flesh, beautiful features, green eyes and silver hair, if he truly was a man or some creation of perfection purely man made.

Either way, he was ShinRa's dog, though noble and purebred as he must be, and deserved not even a backward glance from Tifa…except to make sure he wasn't going to run her through, of course.

She sighed and walked over to the couch threw herself down as her thoughts slowly slid down to Zack. The young man had a quite a personality, she had to give him that. Just thinking of his name made her remember his bright, warm smile and she quickly found the feeling contagious as her own lips curved upwards just thinking about him.

She never did find out what his profession was, now that she thought about it. Idly she wondered if it was something he was ashamed of… or maybe something he thought she would be ashamed of? ShinRa…no, he didn't look the type.

Tifa sighed and let her head fall back against the back of the couch. Silently she stared holes into the ceiling as her thoughts continued to drift through all of the people she had met in Nibelheim. The receptionist from the Hospital, Doctor Hojo, Mr. Crescent, the members of the Board, Zack, the Taxi Cab driver…

She rubbed her eyes.

_"I would forget about this patient and just go home if I was you! Get away from Hojo while you can."_

_"I can't just forget about him. If you had seen him, Zack…actually, he sort of reminds me of the ShinRa Manor."_

Vincent Crescent. Tifa frowned just slightly, her hands still covering her weary eyes. Something about the name just didn't settle right with her. Names usually flowed well but this one just left a gap between the two, as if the last name wasn't really his. Maybe the more times she said it the better it would sound. Some people had names that you just had to get used to…maybe this was one of those cases. Who was she to judge?

_The man under the blankets was seizing fiercely, his eyes open and white from the result of them being rolled in the back of his head. His mouth was open in a silent scream, his pale skin sweaty and clammy. His long messy black locks were plastered to his skin and she noticed that someone or something had rubbed his wrists raw._

_She brushed the thought aside, captivated by the sight. It was a like a car accident. You want to look away but you can't…_

"_We're losing him!"_

"_Find out how he acquired the medication!"_

"_How could he have overdosed?"_

"_I thought he couldn't move!"_

_The long wail of the monitor calling out made everyone pause for just a breath of time, and all of them gazed at the monitor in slight disbelief. Looking back to the patient, they noticed the deathly stillness of him. Moments ago his muscles were seizing spastically and now he was calmer than the dead itself._

Tifa stood and sluggishly made her way to the kitchen. Mindlessly she grabbed the silver kettle from the stove and filled it with water. While waiting for the water to heat, she grabbed a small white packet of Hot Chocolate, a can of whipped cream, a spoon and some cream.

_Those beautiful red eyes and how sorrowful they looked. She had never seen any other that looked more beautiful and wanted to die more than they did._

"Vincent," she sighed.

Why did she feel so connected to a man she hadn't even talked to yet? She couldn't get her mind off of him.

_Tifa shook her head, "I'm not ready to face what lies behind me, back at home. When I'm good and ready, I'll leave but until then," she smiled, "your stuck with me until my heart is properly healed."_

_In his wide-eyed gaze she made a number of discoveries. Those wide eyes seemed to glow a fearsome red but not just that, it was his reaction. His reaction, not so much to her words, but to her smile, she realized._

_He seemed pained, looking at her warm smile. His eyes were unguarded and painfully sad...vulnerable. He seemed to be seeing past her, looking at someone only he could see and the look he was giving the woman only he could see hurt Tifa. She didn't want to hurt him…he didn't deserve any more pain._

_She edged closer and he didn't seem to notice until the palm of her hand was flush with his right cheek._

"_What do you see?" she whispered._

_It was then that Vincent snapped out of it, his eyes jerking to look her in the eye, still quite wide. He watched her for a moment until that guarded look returned to his gaze. He frowned and said softly, "I see history repeating itself."_

She was even dreaming about the man…

Suddenly she realized that while she was thinking, she had finished what she had set out to do and now held a hot cup of Hot Chocolate in her hands. She sighed.

Since when did this happen to her? The last time she had felt so lost was when Cloud left and when…

…Her Father died. When AVALANCHE died.

She set the cup down with trembling hands and brought her arms as tightly around herself as the appendages would allow. Suddenly, even the warm memories of Zack's cheery disposition couldn't reach her.

The stormy weather returned.

* * *

"Ti-fa!" came a deep, fun loving voice that had a habit of hanging onto the vowels. It startled her from her sleep so badly that she nearly fell off of the couch. 

"Barret?!" Tifa whispered in a rush, her wide dazed eyes searching frantically for her burly friend.

"C'mon, Tifa! Wake-y, wake-y! You couldn't have gone and had a good time last night without me!" the voice whined, "I'll be sad if you're enjoying the wonders of hangovers without me! …Then again, its not like I'd _want_ one of those."

…Zack.

It took her a minute to calm her rapidly beating heart as realization hit her hard. Of course it was Zack…of course it wasn't Barret…

"Tifa! Its nearly noon! I wanted to know if you wanted to go grab a bite to eat with me 'cause I'm so," Zack hung on to the vowel a while longer, "bored of being around these stiff-necked buddies of mine! Please answer the phone? Please?"

Tifa didn't remember getting an answering machine, let alone a phone besides the PHS she had. She frowned, trying to think of an explanation, when it hit her. During her sleep, she figured, she must have hit a few buttons here and there. Seeing as she was still wearing the clothes from yesterday and her cell was in her pocket, it made sense. So, she must have pressed the speakerphone button and somehow hit a few more to get her to her voicemail.

"Well, if you decide to wake up sometime soon, come meet me at the place we hooked up yesterday, okay? I'll be there around, say, 12:30 and I'll stick around for a half'n hour before hitting the nearest food place alone, 'kay? Peace!"

Tifa groaned. It was too early in the morning to hear happy go lucky Zack babbling on about one thing or another…then again, according to Zack, it was noon. Not exactly morning anymore now was it?

_Probably shouldn't stand him up after he was so nice yesterday. _

…_How did he get my number?_

Tifa shrugged off the question as she went to call him back. There was barely even a three second pause before Zack answered, "You've got Zack, what's up?"

"…" Tifa shook her head, smiling, "Hey, Zack. Do you remember me?"

"Hmm…were you the beautiful young woman I brought up to my room last night?"

Tifa blushed and responded, half scolding half amused, "Zack Fair! Why you-"

Zack laughed and she could see him holding up his hands in surrender, "-I'm just kidding, Tifa! Of course I remember you and it has nothing to do with anything you might be feeling for me and wished we did last night."

"Zack!" Tifa chuckled coolly, "Just because you have a handsome laugh doesn't mean I'm interested in you. Plus, I don't think my boyfriend would like it if I was checking out other men."

She had to bite her lip to stop from laughing as the pause of silence grew and grew. She could almost see his expression and ever paling face.

"B-boyfriend?"

She quirked one elegant brow and snickered, _Got you stuttering now, do I?_

"Oh yes, Zack," she began to describe the first guy that popped into her head, "He has spiky blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Quite a looker."

Zack laughed, "Sounds like a kid I knew once! Quiet little bugger but I've never seen someone so dedicated to moving up the chain! Haven't seen him for some time now-"

Tifa cut him off with a bored tone, "-Zack. I was kidding."

"…Oh."

A pause.

"You wanted to go to lunch?" Tifa asked curiously, trying to get the energetic bundle of a man to come back to reality.

"Yeah!" Zack said and the tone gave her the impression that he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Yeah, I'm starving! Meet me where we met up yesterday and I'll take you to this great little secret I know!"

Tifa smiled, warmed and refreshed by Zack's attitude, "Alright, but do you mind giving me a little more time to get ready? …I just woke up, no lie."

"Awww…"

"I'll meet you around one, okay?"

"Ti-fa!" Zack whined, and held onto those vowels again but when she did not yield he sighed, "Fine."

The young fighter smiled, "Good, see you then."

"Humph."

Tifa giggled and hung up.

* * *

There was no more sorrow in the world, not to Vincent. There was no more past and no more future. No more love, hate…nothing. There was nothing but pain to him now. 

With feverish eyes he glared at the source of it all.

His left arm.

There were no more bandages for they were no longer needed. The wounds had healed hours before and Hojo had discarded them as quickly as he had put them on. Now there was only scars and pain. His left arm, from the elbow down, was a mess of intricate scars, each precise in their size, shape and angle. But even those soft puckers of pale skin were beginning to fade as his healing continued. He did not know how, nor did he care how his healing was moving along so rapidly. In what should have taken months, perhaps years, to heal was healing in the matter of hours.

The muscle beneath his mottled skin was just a firm and stable as it was before his thirty long years of solitude. The prone position of his body and the lack of use didn't seem to affect it and the process was beginning to spread by small sections.

When he had first realized he could move his left arm, despite the white-hot pain that followed, he was astounded. Years of lying in his supine position should have left him, for the most part, weak. The small effort of rotating his wrist should have been exhausting but he found the action simple and unhindered.

Now his upper arms were beginning to gain back the muscle lost from his imprisonment. His heart fluttered with the thought that maybe, just maybe, if this continued, he could escape. But the thought was lost seconds later when the pain returned again to pluck logical thinking from his brain.

His skin felt as though it was on fire. Every pore screamed in defiance of the throbbing waves emitting from the very bone marrow of his left arm. Sweat clung to him like a second skin and the heat of his body seemed to be continually assaulted by the cold of the room. His weak body was attacked ceaselessly by shudders.

He looked to his left arm again and blinked past the haze of blinding pain. His hand, which twitched from the aching pain, appeared to have grown claws. Maybe it was simply because he could never recall anyone ever cutting his nails but he also could never recall ever having a problem with the length.

He could hear someone muttering softly nearby and he could hear the muted clicks of their shoes on the clean hospital floor. Each individual sound slammed into his head mercilessly and it made the throbbing ache in his arm and his head fluctuate irritably. He groaned but the sound, it seemed, did not belong to him.

The man turned to look at him but all he could gather as an image was the reflection of light off their glasses and a long white coat. He heard the scratching of a pen as the man smiled, looked away, and continued to make notes.

"Lets see, lets see…" the man muttered, suddenly beside him. There was no sense of time, not when one was too pained to care. All there was to care about was when the end of that pain would come, no matter the costs.

He felt icy fingers poke and prod at his arm and each touch lit his nerves on fire. He heard a hoarse scream but it was only afterwards that he figured out it was his.

"Ssh," the man whispered, trying to comfort him though the effort was halfhearted at best, "Its not so bad."

One last prod, right at the center of the pain, sent Vincent spiraling back into unconsciousness. But the reprieve from the pain didn't give Vincent any sense of joy and dimly he tried to remember the reason as to why.

"_**Galian, look who has returned to keep us company!"**_ whispered the hissing voice as Vincent fell back into the claws of his nightmares and his demons.

"_Vincent Valentine," _the creature let out an animalistic laugh, _"Didn't have enough fun the first time, boy?"_

The creatures laughed at his dismay, realization of his situation hitting him harder than the pain had before and with a heart sinking feeling, he wished he were back in that world of pain. At least then, he wasn't aware of what was happening.

"_**Oh, this is my favorite part!" **_hissed the masked demon as the two forced Vincent, once again, to watch the reruns of his life with them.

Vincent let out a strangled cry of helplessness and grabbed at his hair, covered his eyes with his hands, as the creatures delighted themselves with watching his life, his failures, his mistakes, lost chances and sins.

* * *

When Tifa found Zack, he had his back to her, clad once again in his long black winter coat with his hands in his pockets, staring up at the distant outline of the ShinRa Manor. Stealthily, Tifa snuck up behind him. She gave him a small chance to react before pouncing. With her fingers splayed and curved like dangerous claws, she clutched his shoulders and gave his tall familiar frame a rough jerk. 

Zack let out a hoarse cry of surprise and spun on heal. With a quick backwards leap he dislodged himself from Tifa's playful grip and brought his body into a serious, defensive position. In his normally warm eyes Tifa saw nothing of the man she knew. Instead, she only saw cold, calculating eyes, trained to take down their opponent.

After a few, awkward breathes, recognition bled into Zack's gaze. He straightened himself quickly, smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously.

"Sorry, you startled me."

Tifa shook her head and let out a huff of a laugh, "Don't worry about it, I probably would've done the same."

"Whaat?" Zack laughed, then brought his enfolded hands up to his cheek and batted his eyes, "No, 'Oh please, Mister Fair, save me'?"

Tifa rolled her eyes and flipped her hair over her shoulder, "I would hardly call you a knight in shining armor, Zack."

Zack pouted.

"C'mon, _Sir Fair_, lets go get some lunch."

Zack nearly bounced, "Yeah!"

* * *

The walk down to Zack's 'little secret' was relatively short. Perhaps it was because the distance was actually short or perhaps it was because the company kept Tifa's mind off of the time it actually took to get there, but either way, she had to admit she was impressed. 

Zack waved his arms out as though presenting a prize on a game show, "Ta-da!"

Tifa felt the corners of her lips rising as she took in the warm little pizzeria. The building was a small brick restaurant settled between two other larger buildings. The over hang of the building allowed the customers to eat outside in the shade, the fenced area covered with aesthetically pleasing arrays of vines and other greenery. The small black tables were scattered pleasantly and just beyond them was a small glass door. On it was the logo of the little pizzeria and a pleasing picture of a slice of pizza. The winds around them shifted, not completely startling due to the stormy clouds above, and allowed the lovely aroma of the pizza to waft its way to their noses.

Both of their stomachs rumbled with longing at the smell. They both smiled and began to walk towards the door.

"A guy I knew…oh, where did I meet him? …Aw forget it. Fun guy, either which way. Interesting sense of dress, to say the least, with all the reds and the leathers and as such. But _man_ does that guy know his pizza! Once you get past the crazy color of his hair and the unnatural feel of him, you're set. He's the one who told me about this place…can't remember why he said he came down here in the first place. Something about looking for something someone had taken from him…either way, whatever. Cool guy, great taste in pizza…" Zack frowned, "For the life of me I just can't remember his name!"

Tifa rolled her eyes, already used to the young man's rambling nature, "Sounds like a cool guy, Zack."

"Who're you talking about?" Zack asked curiously, the other conversation obviously forgotten about some where between his words and hers.

"Never mind," Tifa sighed, "Want to spilt a dish? Those look huge!"

Zack seemed…reluctant.

Tifa grinned as she remembered the amount of food he had taken to eating the other day, "I'll eat a slice or two. The rest is yours."

Zack nodded, his expression completely serious, "Only if we get an extra large."

Tifa laughed, "Whatever."

* * *

"How is the experiment going, Doctor Hojo?" 

Hojo turned to look at the serious face of President ShinRa with an unsettling grin of his own.

"Quite smoothly, Mr. President."

"Would you mind explaining, Doctor? I'm afraid I don't understand the _finer details_ of what has been done," said Heidegger, his beard masking the movements of his lips but the voice undeniably his.

Hojo smirked and his glasses reflected the lights of the room eerily as he smiled down upon the Head of Public Safety Maintenance, "Of course," he all but purred, "I'd be glad to."

Hojo walked over to his seat quietly and sat down as the lights receded in the room. The projector attached to the ceiling whirred into life and projected the charts of a human arm upon the screen. With a nimble flick of his dexterous fingers Hojo brought up his laser pen and sent the red stream of light out to point at one of the main parts of the forearm.

"What has been done in surgery is relatively quite simple," Hojo explained as the red ball of light flickered around the two long sections of bone, which extended from the elbow to the wrist, "We chipped off small pieces of the _radius_ and the _ulna_ and replaced the fragmented pieces with shards of Materia. I'll get to how that will work out in a moment. Then we extracted small sections of bone marrow from the subject's _radius _and _ulna_ to replace them with equal matching pieces of Materia fragments."

"I fail to see how this benefits the patient in any manner, Hojo. The bone will not accept non-living material as a replacement for bone marrow," Palmer chuckled airily.

Hojo glared, "Did I not just say I would explain the reaction in a moment?"

The President held up a hand to quail Palmer and held his attention upon Hojo, "Please continue, Simon."

Hojo nodded his thanks to the President before continuing. The projection before them changed to a slide of a film of two separate pieces of Materia. One was a mixture of bruising reds, black, purples and blues, all of which swirled within it like the living matter that made up a nightmare. The other piece of Materia was a swirling ball of dark blue and gold. The film was no doubt chosen over a picture simply because the innards of balls of Materia were always in motion and a picture would pale in comparison to the real deal.

"These are the two pieces of Materia used to replace the parts of the subject's bone that was taken. The piece on the far left," Hojo said as his laser pen circled the nightmarish looking orb, "Is the Materia Summon of Hellmasker."

Hojo drank in the collective sigh of awe, which sounded out from his audience, however small it may be.

"I thought the Hellmasker Summon was a tale, Doctor," said Scarlet, her smooth voice portraying her as the cat she was.

"As did I. If it wasn't for Doctor Lucrecia Crescent's research, I never would have found it," Hojo smiled, knowing how she would have hated to known this was what her findings were being used for.

"Doctor Lucrecia Crescent…" the President absentmindedly traced his mustache with two of his plump stubby fingers. Hojo knew what he was going to say. He knew that the President wanted to ask if this was the same woman who birthed Sephiroth. However, a certain member in their number bade him to hold his tongue, "She was the one who developed a thesis on Omega and Chaos, am I correct, Doctor?"

"Yes, they are one in the same."

"So Doctor Crescent found this lost artifact, Hojo?" Scarlet asked silkily as she quirked one elegant eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yes, she did find it, however, she had no intention of using it. The Materia, you see, was found in one of the places she thought the 'G-substance' could be collected easily. She grabbed these two orbs, along with the Proto Materia, in hopes of one day studying them more thoroughly. However, she never got the chance due to unfortunate circumstances," Hojo clarified.

"I see, continue."

"Yes, as I was saying," Hojo said and brought the pen's light over to the other orb, "The blue and gold piece you see is also one of the missing artifacts we have thought to have been destroyed or non-existent. This is the Materia Summon Galian Beast."

"I was under the impression," Reeve cut in, his hands folded so tightly before him that they had turned white under the pressure, "That Materia all had similar colors and were thus categorized through them. These two are quite different from the norm."

Hojo grinned and tilted his head up, "I'm glad you said that, Mr. Tuesti. You are right in your assumption. Most pieces of Materia normally vary in color to a certain degree. Red, yellow, green, etc. are normally the colors we find now a days. There have only been a few exceptions, such as the White Materia, the Black Materia and the Proto Materia. When Materia has a distinctive color, I have come to theorize, it means its in a class all its own."

"So you are telling me that we are handling two extremely powerful pieces of Materia and that we are wasting them on a fragile man?" Scarlet questioned, acid apparent in her tone and in her eyes.

"Yes, please explain, Doctor."

Hojo scowled as the next slide appeared before them.

"Also, we inserted mastered pieces of Materia from Cure and Time, in hopes that the process will go along quickly and effectively," Hojo said, his gusto from before somewhat stolen but not completely.

"Time? Wouldn't that be a negative side effect towards the specimen? It won't due to have him become this WEAPON you promise us he will become only to have him die from old age."

Hojo's eyes flashed dangerously from behind his black-rimmed glasses, "Listen. Listen and maybe you won't need to ask questions I am about to explain!"

Hojo straightened his tie underneath his lab coat and cleared his throat, "As I was saying, we inserted the two Summon Materia as well as the two mastered green Materia. Time, Palmer, will not negatively harm the patient thanks to Doctor Lucrecia Crescent and the gift she gave him years ago."

Palmer was about to ask a question when glares from around the table stopped his lips from moving.

Hojo nodded in thanks, "Doctor Lucrecia Crescent saved our young Turk's life thanks to her theory and work in the 'G-Substance'. You see, shortly after our friend, Mr. Valentine, went 'missing' I began to do a few tests on how well he would do as a test subject. However, our friend had quite a sharp tongue on him, once upon a time. One thing led to another and I ended up using his prized gun against him in my fury. If Doctor Crescent hadn't been there, he would have died.

"However, Lucrecia gathered up the young Turk, put him in a rehabilitation tube and began to use her thesis in order to save his life. Through the benefits of the 'G-Substance' Vincent was brought back to the world of the living after his body effectively absorbed what Lucrecia called Omega's Squire. Chaos brought Vincent back to life, however, it also dragged him down into feral insanity. That is when the Proto Materia was administered to Vincent. Much to our surprise, Vincent's body actually consumed the Materia and lodged it," Hojo tapped at a spot just above his heart, "Into his chest."

"Hojo, get to the point."

"Chaos keeps him alive, yes, but Chaos also keeps him young. Vincent has not noticed the fact that he has not aged a single day throughout these long thirty years of captivity. Chaos, while dormant within him for now, keeps his body young and ready for the time in which it will return and resume control over his body."

"Why is Chaos dormant, Doctor?" the President questioned, "I'm afraid you have not gone in depth into Chaos besides in papers and I can't seem to keep up."

"Because of the Proto Materia and because Vincent has not engaged in battle since the time Chaos was introduced to his body, Chaos has remained in a dormant state within him. There have been times in which Chaos has surfaced due to Vincent's rage, but he has yet to surface in battle. Blood makes his control stronger and, sadly, Vincent has yet to spill a drop whilst in his hospital bed."

"I see."

"So, our first piece of evidence that Materia can be inserted into the body and then force the body to accept and benefit from it came from this instance. Vincent's body accepted the Proto Materia and keeps it in a state of steady activation without losing any source of strength," Hojo adjusted his glasses slowly, "So, whether or not a being can accept Materia into the body, we already had evidence to prove that Vincent can and will."

"So the bones will gradually become one with the Materia and the body will function normally while keeping the Materia activated much in the same way he keeps his heart pumping and lungs moving?" Rufus asked curiously, his appreciation for the new findings obvious in his intense and respectful blue stare, "And because of Chaos, this constant usage of energy is not harming him?"

"Exactly."

"But there is a chance that Vincent won't be able to control these demons, is there not? He has the Proto Materia to handle the 'G-Substance', which created Chaos. What is there to keep these new additions from gaining control and escaping from our control as well?" asked Tseng simply, his stare serious and logical.

"That is the reason why we must finish all of the surgeries within this weekend. Under constant strain, healing, and anesthesia, the demons won't get the chance to grab the upper hand of the situation before we go through with the last phase of Vincent's transformation into a WEAPON," Hojo said softly.

The board remained silent, waiting for his explanation as the slides which flickered in the background continued, now long forgotten.

"We will release Chaos. We will melt down the Proto Materia with the Manipulation Materia. We will then take those fragments, of which previous experimentation has proved that the mix is effective, and we will insert them in various places along Vincent's spine, neck, and temple. Vincent will regain control of Chaos and we will gain control of Vincent."

"Manipulation Materia, Doctor, gives the user the ability to manipulate _others_ and not to be manipulated themselves. I don't see the sense in this," Scarlet snapped.

"Materia responds to living organisms, Scarlet. We will mix blood into the melted Materia to bind it to ShinRa's whims. Then, through the closest in blood to the originator, he will obey throughout the ages. However, at one point, he will need to refresh this blood line according to future changes far past this day and age," Hojo finished.

Vincent's ShinRa file as a Turk popped up.

"So, where do we go from here, Doctor?" the President asked with a crooked grin.

Hojo smiled back and began to explain where each of the other choice pieces of Materia would be implanted throughout the course of the weekend. In Vincent's legs Pre-Emptive, Time, Speed Plus, and Sneak Attack would be equally administered to the bones from the hips down. Along Vincent's shoulder blades, collarbone, and hip bone Hojo would administer the Heal, Restore, Poison, Revive, Barrier, Full Cure, and Shield Materia. Along the _radius_ and _ulna_ of Vincent's right arm, Fire, Ice, Lightening, Earth, Destruct, Contain and Ultima Materia would be implanted. Finally, the mixed Materia would be implanted into Vincent's spine.

Hojo explained all of this over the course of the remainder of the meeting and once the paperwork was filled and signed, they began to discuss the smaller, more insignificant details of the procedure.

"So this man is going to be a slave?" came a deep, soft voice, which broke the conversation into stunned silence. The tone was cold and a tad bit disgusted. Hojo reluctantly looked to the owner of that voice.

"In a sense, yes."

"No, not in a sense," Sephiroth said coldly, but did not snap, "He will be a slave."

"Sephiroth," the President said, a little baffled by his sudden change in mood as the tall General stood up in one brisk movement.

"Oh how the loyal are rewarded," Sephiroth whispered in a harsh breath as he exited the conference room with the flick of black leather coat.

Hojo shivered. Something didn't bode well for the future.

* * *

Zack jumped and let out a soft yelp of surprise, startling Tifa as she took too large of a bite and began to flail. Once both parties calmed down, Tifa questioned his reasons behind scaring the crap out of her. 

"Sorry, my pants were vibrating."

"…Excuse me?" Tifa laughed, one elegant brow arched up in question.

"I mean, my partner in crime texted me, thus my phone was vibrating and it was in my pocket. Thus, my pants were vibrating," Zack smiled.

"Partner in crime?" Tifa grinned.

Zack paled, "C'mon, do I look like a criminal? Not that kind of crime."

Tifa laughed, "I don't know," she sang, "Then what kind of crime are you talking about?"

"The kind that takes place in bed," Zack waggled his eyebrows.

"Zack!" Tifa laughed, "Stop!"

Zack shrugged and leaned back to look at the message on his phone. His eyes scanned the message again and again and with each time he read it, the further his lips moved into a scowl.

"What's wrong?"

Zack blinked and shook his head, suddenly aware of her presence, "No, nothing."

But his frown did not fade.

"If you need to leave, I understand, Zack," Tifa said softly, concerned that whatever news his associate had given him had been able to unsettle the smiling young man this badly.

Zack nodded and stood, "I'm really sorry, Tifa. I'll call you later, okay?"

Tifa nodded and as he hurriedly said his goodbyes and left his share of the money for the meal on the table, Tifa completely forgot to ask him one of the questions that had been burning in her mind for quite some time now.

How did he get her number?

And more recently…

What was in that message?

* * *

**I'm back…for the moment. - While my updates are random and completely unpredictable, I have updated! Yay! As usual, it is not spell checked, blah blah blah. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait and thank you guys so much for all of your support!**

**Reviews are appreciated and Reviewers will be glomped in love!**

**Spazzy [Blindfolded Angel**

**PS: Does anyone know who Zack was talking about when they first got to the Pizzeria? - **


	5. ShinRa Manor

Music: Right Here - Staind

**Chapter 5: ShinRa Manor **

The general, once again, had thrown Zack for a loop. Not only did Zack even miss the fact that Sephiroth _owned_ a cell phone but never in one hundred years would he have ever expected what his General asked of him.

_Meet me at Good Luck. _

Zack had been baffled, at first. The message made no sense on just one glance but eventually he had riddled it out. Sephiroth had sent him a text message, which meant he didn't want to talk about why, just what. He figured the General mustn't have liked the meeting too much, if he was resorting to drinking. However, he didn't know anything about any 'Good Luck'.

Zack had tried to call Sephiroth for more information but the man had turned off his cell phone. With an undignified huff, Zack went about wandering and asking random people if they knew anything on the place. It had taken hours but finally Zack got his answer.

_"Yeah," said a gruff, blonde haired man, "I go there all the time. Shit, you don't know about 'Good Luck'? It's a hotspot just outside of town. Can't say I go there much with all the shit the Hospital has me transporting lately but when I get the time, I always make sure to grab a seat."_

_Zack had nearly jumped for joy but he managed to restrain himself and settle for asking one more thing, "Can you tell me where it is?"_

_"Damn, are you stupid? I just told you! Outside the damn city limits, moron!" the man had snapped before adjusting his goggles on his forehead and turning on heel._

Zack scowled and glared at his back but when he figured the man wasn't going to self-combust anytime soon, he started down the road again.

After a lot of stops to ask for directions, a few wrong turns, and a whistle to grab a cab, Zack was finally on his way to find his General.

"Hey," Zack said in a friendly tone as he hopped into the back of the cab, "You wouldn't happen to know where this place called 'Good Luck' is, would ya?"

The cab driver seemed to stiffen when the other male hopped in. With a quick adjustment to his hat, he merely nodded. Zack grinned, "Great, that's where I want to go!"

The cab driver simply nodded once more and with a soft tug, they were off. Zack shifted in the backseat, uncomfortable with the growing silence, and finally leaned forward. Wrapping his forearms around the headrest of the passenger's seat in front of him, he rested his cheek on it and looked at the guy driving the car.

It was hard to tell anything based off of a first glance. The man had his hat pulled low to conceal most of his features with shadows, his coat pulled up close and his lower face was covered with a thick, warm scarf. Zack looked to the heater curiously to find it off, and chuckled, "What's up with the winter gear, man, doesn't this ride have a heater?"

"Sorry," the man muttered so softly Zack almost didn't catch it, and simply shook his head to tell him no.

Zack merely hummed a response before he gazed back at the driver inconspicuously. He couldn't see anything else from where he was seated. He had hoped to get a peek at the shape of his eyes or the color of his hair. Nothing.

With a soft huff, he threw himself back against the car seat and looked out the window. He really did feel bad about leaving Tifa but his General was calling him. Not only was he second in command, but he truly thought he was a good friend of the silver haired man, even if Sephiroth would never admit it. He frowned softly.

_Speaking of friends…where'd Spike go?_

He sighed and looked up silently to the rear view mirror. That's when something caught his eye. One unruly lock of blonde hair hung loosely from the man's hat and came down to caress his left cheek.

_"Yo Cloudy!" Zack shouted and waved. The man before him turned, his unruly blonde locks quivered with the movement, and blinked in confusion, his lower face covered by the high collar of his uniform, before a smile erupted in his bright blue eyes, and he waved back._

Zack hadn't realized the ride had gone by so fast but suddenly the cab came to a halt outside a roadside pup. The driver said nothing, simply sat there, his shoulders stiff about him.

"How much do I owe you?" Zack asked softly as he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

The man tipped his chin to the counter on the dash.

Handing over the payment, Zack pocketed his cash before he hopped out of the cab and stretched. He turned and tapped on the glass of the driver's window. With a soft whirl, the window slowly receded into the door of the car and the man turned to him, hat still downcast. Zack smiled and laughed, "Thanks, man, I owe you one."

He turned on heel to go to the door of the pub when what came next caught him off guard.

"No problem, Zack," came a familiar voice but when he turned around the cab was already driving off, window rolled up. He blinked and shook his head.

_Must've imagined it…_

* * *

"Bad day at work?" Zack asked softly as he pulled up a stool next to his General. He had never thought he would see the day when his General would be stooped over a bar nursing a drink.

Sephiroth hummed back to him in response, "You could say that, yes."

Zack paused and flicked his wrist after a moment to catch the barkeeper's attention. When he placed his order he turned his head to glance at his friend, "Well?"

Sephiroth stopped swirling the noxious liquid of his drink within his cup and opted to look at Zack, "Well what?"

"Do you plan on telling me why you're breaking your own codes of conduct and are, right now, drinking?" Zack asked softly, his tone more serious than playful.

Sephiroth took another swig of his drink before he sighed, "Perhaps I shouldn't have called you here."

"Dude, I'm hurt!" Zack laughed and thumped his fist on his chest, "Right here. Seriously, man, I'm here for you. You know that…though, if this has anything to do with gender insecurities or new interests in the same sex, I think I have this report I need to finish for Headquarters."

Sephiroth let out a low bark of a laugh before he glanced to Zack, "I never saw you as a homophobic, Zack."

"I'm not! If that's what floats your boat, so be it! Just as long as your boat stays away from my _canal,_ if you know what I mean," Zack smirked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively before he settled back down upon his stool.

"I should've have known you would find a way to bring your perverted nature into this…"

"Ah, but you asked for it," the spiky haired man laughed and after a few moments, became somber. He grabbed his drink as it was placed before him and watched its insides whirl, "So what is this really about, Seph? Somehow I doubt that you're having troubles with your gender or with your sexual preference."

"No, Zack, this has nothing to do with my gender or my sexual preference," the silver haired man said dully, "If only it were that simple."

"That's definitely _not_ simple, man."

"Sounds simple to me," he said softly in return and downed the rest of his drink. With a quick movement to signal for a refill, he sighed.

Zack gave his general a worried glance before he asked once again, "Sephiroth…what's got you so wound up?"

Sephiroth shook his head, his silver locks whispered around him from the movement, and he trained his eyes on his glass once more, "Nothing…"

Zack frowned at his General but said nothing.

"I have another board meeting…tomorrow. Sunday."

Zack blinked and looked to his General, "Yeah, I know. Did you forget?"

Sephiroth let one of his ungloved fingers caress the edges of the smooth glass mug, "No, but I wish I could…"

"Are the meetings really that bad? I know most of'em are boring but I figured, you know, since it was "High Authority Figures Only" that it would be, at least, mildly interesting," Zack said in a mildly astonished tone.

"Its hardly interesting, Zack," the General nearly growled and Zack didn't miss the angry flash of unnatural green that flared in his eyes, "Its disgusting."

_"We will release Chaos. We will melt down the Proto Materia with the Manipulation Materia. We will then take those fragments, of which previous experimentation has proved that the mix is effective, and we will insert them in various places along Vincent's spine, neck, and temple. Vincent will regain control of Chaos and we will gain control of Vincent."_

"Is this about those meetings that have been taking place inside the hospital, Seph?"

Sephiroth hummed a low response, his brow furrowed and his nose flared, and began to nurse his refilled drink anew.

He felt a gentle touch at the crook of his arm and upon further inspection as to whom owned the hand, he found Zack's eyes staring at him with concern, "Seph, you're scaring me, man. I hate it when we come here. You always _change_ when we come here to Nibelheim. Now there is all this shit with the meetings…I wish you would just tell me what is on your mind every once in a while! You don't have to suffer ShinRa's idiocy alone."

"I don't want to drag you into this, Zack."

Oh, Sephiroth had thought about letting Zack in on ShinRa's plans but instantly he shot it down. Zack was a good man, a pure soul, and would never be able to stomach what ShinRa planned to do to this man. He would want to fight, to take down the corrupted power officials, and alone he would fail. He would die, or worse, he would end up just like Vincent Valentine. Sephiroth couldn't handle thinking about going to a board meeting that revolved around torturing his friend, his second in command. It was hard enough sitting back and listening to Hojo sputter all this inhumane nonsense about surgeries and making a man into a monster. If Sephiroth told Zack, he would tell Zack with the intention of asking the man to fight by his side and not to die alone.

The spiky haired man frowned, "Don't want to drag me into this…" he repeated sullenly, "Fine."

They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Zack was too angry to talk and Sephiroth had too much pride to make another conversation. After a few long moments and another drink later, Zack finally gave into the pressure.

"Have you heard of a guy named Vincent Valentine?" Zack asked softly.

Sephiroth paled ever so slightly but the lack of color was barely noticeable. He turned to glance at Zack and nodded.

"That guy on the TV," Zack continued, "The Turk they had thirty year search party for…"

_"Doctor Lucrecia Crescent saved our young Turk's life thanks to her theory and work in the 'G-Substance'. You see, shortly after our friend, Mr. Valentine, went 'missing' I began to do a few tests on how well he would do as a test subject. However, our friend had quite a sharp tongue on him, once upon a time. One thing led to another and I ended up using his prized gun against him in my fury. If Doctor Crescent hadn't been there, he would have died."_

"I wasn't aware that the search party lasted so long," Sephiroth replied, "Turks are rarely so highly regarded."

Yes, the General was aware that the Turk had been hidden from the world for thirty long years, all the while in Hojo's care, but he did not know that a search party had been established for him. Now that he thought about it, he did recall the news mentioning that. Why had he not made the connection? Not to mention, in all his years of sitting behind a desk for ShinRa, and all his years of commanding SOLDIER, why had he not known about this search party?

Sephiroth's eyes widened just ever so slightly.

_There was no search party. This is all just a scam, a cover, for the people, for ShinRa, and for Hojo's twisted games._

Sephiroth wanted to stand up right there, leave the bar, confront the board for this idiocy, and then impale Hojo on something long, sliver, and glimmering. But he couldn't, he knew. Sephiroth rubbed the bridge of his nose as he became engrossed in his thoughts. It was obvious that there was major fowl play in this.

But ShinRa never 'played nice' so why did this instance make any difference?

"Yeah, well, something doesn't feel right with all that. Like you said, Turks aren't exactly valued to a point of getting thirty years worth of ShinRa's attention. Who was that guy, you know? I mean, what made his such a valuable asset or," Zack paused darkly, "Is it a cover…"

Sephiroth was mildly surprised by his second's ability to connect all this. The man bounced around so much that he had forgotten that Zack, somehow, did earn his way to his position. It was always moments like this when Zack proved himself to ShinRa and to the silver haired General.

"I mean, I went to that guy's grave. Someone had etched something into the gravestone without ShinRa's supervision. There is more behind this story and it puts the hairs on my neck on end just thinking about it!"

"What was on the grave, Zack?" Sephiroth asked curiously.

"What?" Zack blinked, his train of thought suddenly broken.

"What was on the grave, Zack? You said something about something being written on the grave without ShinRa's supervision."

"Oh! It was something in Latin, I think she said, but she translated it for me. What was it…?" Zack paused, his brows furrowed in concentration, until finally he broke out into a grin and snapped his fingers in victory, "I remember it now! It was 'Glory paid to ashes comes too late'."

Cineri gloria sera est… 

Sephiroth wanted answers. He wanted answers and he wanted them _now._ Zack was right and even though his second wasn't aware of it to the degree that he was, he could still figure this out. In all of his years of SOLDIER he was never blind to the horrors of ShinRa, of what they did behind the scenes, but never had he heard of an operation such as this. To create a WEAPON out of a man was simply barbaric. Fire seemed to like through his veins as he thought about it.

But this Turk, this Vincent Valentine, had to have done something to end up as he is. He had to have gotten on ShinRa's bad side, which means, he probably was doing something morally right.

Sephiroth growled gently, his eyes aflame, and sunk further into his troubled thoughts. He had a huge decision to make. Would he try to save one man who was being wronged as compared to the thousands that ShinRa had already wronged and would wrong again? Or…would he sit back and watch this man become a slave? He would keep his job but did he want his job? Being the General of ShinRa was never an occupation he picked. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember his childhood at all. He was always the General of ShinRa and nothing more. It was as though he had been birthed a grown man and was instantly made the General of ShinRa. Had he always wanted that? How had he gone up the ranks? Who were his parents?

Why was he having an identity crisis? Sephiroth let loose a chuckle from deep within his throat. _Must be the alcohol…_

"Yo, are you okay?" Zack interrupted gently, his concerned eyes burning holes in the General's face.

"Yes, Zack. The alcohol just seems to have loosened some of the questions I thought I had buried quite deep within my mind…"

But still, Sephiroth knew that even if he was not nursing a drink at this particular moment that these questions would have popped up eventually. He frowned.

What was he going to do?

* * *

"Vincent, Vincent, Vincent," he heard a hawkish voice, "What will I ever do with you?"

Vincent slowly opened his heavy eyes. Everything before him was cast in a series of blurs and light colors. He groaned softly, not loud enough for Hojo to hear, and blinked again. He tried to form words upon his lips but could not muster the motivation to pull it off.

"It seems the process is beginning to take its toll on you. I expected this to happen, sooner or later, but not to this extent," he could hear the curious frown in Hojo's voice. He felt fingers press into his left arm but unlike the last time he did that no pain followed the sensation.

He tried to look at the Doctor but the attempt only made his vision spin and his stomach flip. He let slip another groan.

"But look, Vincent, all those scars are gone now."

Vincent could feel the gentle tug the Doctor pressed to his arm as he shifted the numb appendage up and into view. He cracked open a weary eye just in time to catch a glimpse of his own tattered left arm. What was once covered from elbow to fingertip in glossy white scars was now the image of a perfect arm. Perfectly shaped muscle, healthy skin, strong bones, and Vincent could not believe his eyes.

An illusion, a feverish dream, surely anything but reality, was all that Vincent could think in his foggy mind. But the arm remained perfect no matter how many times he blinked and Hojo's grin never faltered with each and every subtle closing of his eyes.

"How…?" Vincent whispered, a mere ghost of a tone compared to what it once was.

"Don't worry about it, Vincent," Hojo said in a hush, no nonsense tone, "Close your eyes and let them finish their work."

"…Them?"

He let his tired eyes flick over to Hojo but the monstrous grin he had on unsettled him deeply.

"Yes…Hellmasker and Galian Beast," Hojo said as he continued to make his way around the room, making notes here and organizing things there, "Let them do their job."

Vincent groaned as his thoughts wandered to those two…_creatures_… The one with the mask and the one that looked like a mutated wolf and thinking of them made him shiver unconsciously.

"Rest, Valentine," Hojo ordered as he came to Vincent's bedside once more, "The next time you wake I promise that things will be just a tad bit better. The improvements will continue from there."

Vincent blinked. Improvements? Hojo was going to make things better? Things were going to get better? Vincent wanted to snort, wanted to roll his eyes, and most of all…

…He didn't want to get his hopes up.

Hojo smiled as he watched Vincent's features steadily slackened into the peaceful calm of sleep, "Things will get better, Vincent, you'll see."

Gently, he brushed back the long, unruly black bangs of his most prized experiment. _If things continued to progress as they were,_ Hojo thought_, then perhaps this enemy of his would turn out better than the child Lucrecia Crescent birthed for him._

_These Crescents,_ he laughed_, always sacrificing themselves for ShinRa, for him, and for the sake of science._

* * *

"Seph," Zack whined, holding onto the vowels of the General's name long enough to annoy him without getting killed, "Why are we breaking into the ShinRa Manor?"

"I've already told you, Fair, there is something I want to check out. Stop whining, you're supposed to be a First Class SOLDIER, aren't you?" Sephiroth growled as he shoved his way through the unruly brush and greenery that led up to the ShinRa Manor.

"Hey!" the spiky haired man yelped indignantly, "I'm a SOLDIER through and through. I was promoted as your second, was I not?"

"Yes, Zack," Sephiroth huffed, "So start acting like it."

"Hey!"

The General looked over his shoulder to give his spiky haired second a withering glare before he continued to make his way towards the haunted looking Manor. The Manor wasn't exactly how he remembered it, now that he took a closer look. There were boards missing in some places, window panes broken here and there, and the overall gothic look of the huge estate was only amplified by the hush whispering of passing creatures that lurked in the deepest shadows of the abandoned estate.

This place…seemed so familiar. Yes, he was the General of the ShinRa army, and this most definitely was not his first visit to Nibelheim or the ShinRa Manor but…every time he ever came here he always fell under the impression that he had been here before. That he had been here when he was naught but a child.

The idea was foolish, of course, for he knew nothing of his own childhood and ShinRa had raised him from birth. He had no parents, no birthplace, and no home other than what ShinRa had to offer. With a quick shake of his head, he cleared his mind of those thoughts and kept his focus on the task at hand.

He needed to know the truth about this Vincent Valentine. He needed to find the answers to his questions, to all of his questions, and he knew that the first step to finding those questions was here, in the ShinRa Manor.

"Seph, I really don't like the feel of this place," Zack said seriously behind him, the playful whining from before completely gone.

"I know, Zack, but it's only a building…"

But was he right, he wondered, as he took the last few steps and entered the courtyard of the massive gothic estate. Was this place simply just a building?

…Or was it something more?

Sephiroth let a soft sigh exit through his lips. His lashes fluttered wearily down as he watched the steps vanish beneath his boots, carrying him up to the front door of the grave, old Manor.

He tried to twist the knob, to force the door open gently, but upon contact with the knob of the large wooden door it broke into crumbled pieces of rusty, sharp metal. Sephiroth growled and shouldered the door open roughly, of which it promptly obliged.

A normal man would have stumbled when the door suddenly gave way as momentum played its course but not the silver haired General. Swiftly he entered the ShinRa Manor and took a quick look around with his piercing emerald eyes. He was broken from his concentration when Zack stumbled in.

"Seph, I really don't think we should be doing this after drinking," he chuckled reasonably, his tone carefree despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Silence, Zack."

Zack obliged and shut his trap as his General continued to scan the room. It was an entrance hall. The floor they were on wasn't all that big but before them was a dual set of spiraling staircase, breaking off from either side of the room to wind up and join at the second floor. To the left and right lay two doors and the hall itself was decorated as an antique home might be. Not that the furniture wasn't nice for certainly, once upon a time, it must have been splendid but now decay and malnourishment had taken its toll. Not only that, but there was clear signs that monsters had also taken their toll on the furniture.

Here and there, along the legs, and on top of the tops of the tables were bite marks, deep gauges, and splatters of blood and decay.

_The hall was decorated beautifully with all the wonderful signs of Christmas. Music floated in the air, dreamy and surreal, luring all newcomers deeper into the warm walls of the ShinRa Manor. All of the furniture glimmered as though new, the marble floor glittered, and the air carried the light scent of cinnamon. _

_Everyone was dressed so beautifully. The men wore stark black tuxedos and the women wore rich, velvet dresses with just the right amount of glimmer and skin. Sephiroth wasn't supposed to be up here. _He_ had ordered the little boy to stay in the basement, to stay hidden, but he couldn't help but sneak up the vents of the old Manor to sneak a peek, and perhaps, a treat._

Sephiroth blinked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, and took another quick glance across the room unseeingly. That had felt…too real.

He ran one hand through his long silver tresses before he noticed that Zack was no longer behind him.

"Whoa! Look what I found! It's a riddle or something…" the spiky haired man exclaimed as he examined a tattered piece of paper.

Sephiroth didn't have to take that many steps before his long stride brought him to his second's side, "What did you find, Zack?"

Zack shrugged, "Says that there is a secret somewhere in the Manor and that if we find these clues set up randomly around the Manor that we'll get the key we need to find out…sounds like a load of crap to me. All of the clues are blurred too," he growled and looked up to see a wet stain on the ceiling just above where the letter once sat, "Water damage, I think…"

"Through two stories?" Sephiroth questioned, his brows arched high.

"Could be a bathroom up there or something, you know?" Zack said logically.

"Shall we go and investigate, Zack?" the General asked, more of a statement than a question, and began to head for the ruined staircase.

"Hey, this place can't be safe, Seph! The damage to the wood of this place…you're not even listening to me, are you?" Zack said after a moment. He received no response in return. With a soft curse he followed his General up the staircase.

The stairs protested noisily but the General just ignored it and continued. Zack followed at a much more…cautious…pace.

Zack leapt on tiptoe from one stair to another, always at a different place than the one before, and paused at each one as though waiting for something horrible to happen. When Sephiroth reached the top of the stairs he turned, just for a moment, to check on Zack's progress. When he saw the twitchy young man still halfway through the stairs and slowly hopping from one to another, he shook his head and decided to move on.

"Seph. Seph! Hey wait! Seph? Damn it!" Zack cursed and tried to pick up the pace, though the change in speed was barely noticeable to any other eye but his.

* * *

"_Whose room is that?" the little boy with silver hair asked, his big emerald eyes captured by the closed black wood of the door before him. The door had been painted so to remind him not to go in. _He_ would punish him if he went in…but he couldn't help but be curious. _

_A gentle hand caressed his silver locks and a kind woman's voice replied, "You shouldn't be up here, Honey, why don't we get you back down stairs?"_

_"I don't want to go back down stairs," Sephiroth complained despite the nervous twitch the maid gave at the response, "I want to know whose room that used to be…no one has to know that I'm up here…right?"_

_His tone was gentle, scared, and uncertain. His wide MAKO eyes sought out the maid's and she fidgeted beneath the intense gaze before sighing. She kneeled down beside him and looked at the door with a glance akin to pity, "A nice man used to live in that room, Honey…but he…had an accident. He doesn't live here anymore."_

_"Is he okay?" Sephiroth asked with the concern that any young child might have. She glanced to him sadly, "I don't know."_

_She stood, then, and took his hand gently, "Come on, Sweetie, I'm sure the Doctor is looking everywhere for you."_

_Sephiroth allowed himself to be pulled along but he watched that black door until he could see it no longer._

The door wasn't quite the same, now. Sephiroth didn't know if these flashes of memories were dreams, illusions, or nonsense but either way, he knew the door didn't look the same. The black paint was peeling off from the wood, and the door itself only hung from its bottom hinges. But the knob of the door was just as he remembered it. Brass, somewhat glimmering, rusted at the base and smudged a dark red, nearly black, just where the hole in it's middle was.

_Blood…_

He pressed the door open, hindered slightly by the weight of the door hanging off its topmost hinge and catching the on the carpet, but finally found the leeway to get through.

He was surprised, truth be told, that this room wasn't as effected by the elements of age as the others. Sure, it had its fair share of cobwebs, dust bunnies, and odd smells but the room hadn't been touched by the claws of monsters like the rest of the house had been.

In the far right corner, pressed against the wall and the window, was a bed with dark blue, moth bitten covers. The color was a shade lighter, thanks to dust, but it was clear that the sheets had once been a deep, rich blue color, once upon a time.

To the left, pressed against the immediate wall, was a dresser with a mirror. The dresser held few personal effects upon its surface. A picture, a small box topped with a bow, and a few pieces of paper was all that was there.

Sephiroth walked over to the dresser and examined the small items curiously. The picture caught his eye first and gently he picked it up for closer examination. Inside the picture was a couple, a male and a female, standing together underneath a tree. It was obvious that the camera had been held by one of the two, most likely the woman considering the way she held her arm in the picture, for both of their faces were closer to the lens of the camera than the rest of the their bodies. The young woman was smiling happily, her caramel chocolate colored eyes aglow with happiness, and the skin next to her eyes crinkled with the whispers of a smile. Her hair was brown, tugged back into a beautiful gold ribbon, and she wore a simple ensemble with a white lab coat.

The male, on the other hand, had neatly trimmed black hair and was wearing a pressed blue suit, the trademark of the Turks. He was not smiling but he was not frowning either. There was an ever so slight upwards quirk to his mouth but it was barely there. But his eyes, there was no denying, were smiling. The cherry brown color of them, nearly red, seemed to glow with the warm effects of happiness as he gazed into the camera. He did not show any form of intimacy with the young woman but he did not appear to mind the fact that she was pressed so closely to him either.

"Hm, interesting," Sephiroth said softly as he gently set down the picture frame just where he had found it. His fingers lingered for a moment before they made a new course for the small stack of scattered papers.

The papers were soft to the touch, weathered by age, and the ink was slightly faded. The top most papers were all reports, more than likely due to be sent in soon, but beneath them all was a memo and its ink was more preserved than the rest.

The memo said nothing more than 'Call Veld' and beneath the two words was a row of numbers, most likely a phone number. Sephiroth gently folded the paper and slipped it unnoticeably into the pocket of his trademark leather coat.

The reports held little information of any use. The scientists were fine and no hint of a threat to their well being had presented itself. The reports were old, though, and it appeared that the more recent ones were missing altogether.

He looked to the last item remaining on the dresser, a small box topped with a bow.

He fingered the small box curiously, its dark exterior soft to the touch, and finally picked it up altogether. With a deft tug, the ribbon gave way and left the small box unprotected. He opened the box slowly and blinked when its contents came into view.

Within the velvet little box was a small, beautifully crafted, silver ring. The silver spiraled around circular, glimmering diamonds, which continued to repeat over and over into a band that never ended. The ring was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful rings Sephiroth had ever seen. _So he was about to propose…_

He glanced back to the picture.

_So…what stopped him?_

* * *

"Doctor Hojo can't make it here in person, gentlemen, so we have set up a live feed so that we will be able to communicate while the good Doctor finishes up," the President explained as he signaled for the SOLDIER behind him to start up the TV and the feed. After a few long moments of white noise Hojo finally crackled into view, his lower face hidden by a medical mask, his hair tied back, his glasses speckled with tiny flicks of blood.

"Hello again, gentlemen," Hojo greeted the board politely, "I'm truly sorry that I cannot make it there in person but I'm a tad bit busy."

The screen zoomed out to show Hojo in full. His scrubs were stained a vibrant shade of red around the wrists, the elbows, and the upper torso. Below him, on an operation table, was a human figure with a protective sheet placed over it except for where Hojo was currently operating upon, the left leg.

Despite the sheet, however, the back of a mop of black hair was spotted close to the camera, while the camera itself was positioned just slightly past the head of the operating table.

"I would tell Mr. Valentine to say hello but he is a bit…incapacitated, as you can see."

Hojo never looked away from his work, the movements of his scalpel never ending, as he continued to work.

"My God…" Reeve whispered just under his breath. His comment went unnoticed. The rest of the members of the Board, minus Reeve, Tseng, Rufus, and Sephiroth, began to whisper amongst themselves.

"Doctor, how far into the procedure are you?"

Hojo seemed to growl, for a moment, before he adjusted his glasses and went back to Vincent's leg, "Might I remind you, sir, that this is a delicate operation so forgive me if I come across as rude throughout the meeting…" Hojo paused as he gently pulled away a solid shard of white, blood stained, ivory bone, "Before this feed was set up I finished with Mr. Valentine's right leg and right arm. Once I finish picking away the bone fragments I've selected to replace, I can proceed with replacing them with Materia. Once that's done I'll make sure that each piece is secure, and I'll stitch him up."

"Good, sounds like everything is going according to plan then," ShinRa grinned and interlocked his fingers before him, "How is Mr. Valentine, Doctor?"

The members of the Board could not see his smile so much as the crinkle by his eyes as he chuckled, "As good as a person whom no longer exists can be, sir."

Reeve left is a rush, his face pale, and his intent seemingly on the bathroom to relieve himself of the sudden need to expel the contents of his already malnourished, worried stomach.

"Good."

* * *

It was somewhere around the time when Zack finally made his way to the stop of the stairs when the amount of alcohol he had consumed finally kicked in. As to be expected with a SOLDIER enhanced body, it took a great deal of alcohol and a lot more time for a SOLDIER to become even remotely drunk. However, ever now and then, they do get drunk and when they do, they hit the bottle hard.

Zack giggled as he pranced through the halls of the ShinRa Manor in a way akin to how a child would play secret agent. Pressed as close to the walls as he could manage, Zack shuffled throughout the complex in a manner that could, unbeknownst to him, wake the dead.

Zack paused when he reached a room at the far end of the upstairs corridor. The door was a warm, brown color. Its handle, despite the years of neglect, shone with a glimmer that was captivating. Needless to say, the shiny knob instantly attracted Zack's attention.

"What's behind door number one?" Zack sang as he drunkenly fumbled with the doorknob. The door, unlike the rusted, neglected door of the room Sephiroth faced, opened quite easily. Zack stumbled inside and let out a long whistle of astonishment.

The room was…beautiful.

Once upon a time, in a world in which Zack had yet to exist, he could only imagine how magnificent and warm the room must have looked. Zack turned in a circle in the middle of the room, took in the whole of the room, and sobered if only for a moment.

In the far right corner, positioned against a sheer curtained window, was a comfy looking bed, its covers warm and inviting. The dresser held a few trinkets here and there. A gold ribbon, a few necklaces, a music box, among other things; however, one thing caught his eye. A picture.

He squinted, the wheels spinning overtime in his head, as he tried to figure out why the man in the picture seemed so…_familiar_.

The picture had obviously been a surprise for the pair within it was not even looking at its lens. Within, a woman and a man, danced in the middle of a party. But his attention was solely on the stunning young woman in front of him, her fingers laced in his, her smile lighting the room, and her dress sparking in a way no other woman's could. While her smile was warm, lovely, and beautiful, his was warm, happy, and undeniably real on a face that looked as though it had never smiled before. His cherry chocolate eyes seemed to blaze with a warm fire, a fire only for her, and his smile was that of true happiness…true love. They were dancing, that much was obvious, and the camera had caught the motion perfectly as her dress twirled _just so_, and his chin was tipped with down to meet her. The background was blurred, a mixture of smiles, wine, and colors.

Zack plucked the photo from its place in the mirror and flipped it over. On its back, in a script so very beautiful, was simply this:

_Vincent Valentine, the Turk with no emotions, and Lucrecia Crescent, the only woman who could get him to smile. Merry Christmas!_

Below that was a very small printed date. With a quick glance and a few minutes of alcohol clouded thinking, Zack figured that the party had taken place before he was even born, hell, before Sephiroth was even born…not that he knew when that was.

Zack snickered and tucked the photo away. Why? Hell, he didn't know, but at that moment it really didn't matter to him. He liked the photo and…how did that saying go? Finders…whatever, it was his. He turned once more to the bed and loudly made his way over to it. There, upon the coverlets, was a thin leather-bound volume. Zack inquisitively quirked a brow and reached out for the small journal that he hadn't noticed when first entering the room when something moved. He froze.

All was still except his heart and Zack felt a sudden sense of doom fall upon him. The feeling was similar to the status effect that monsters would sometimes cast in battle, something in the back of Zack's mind thought reasonably, but this was some how worse…

The creature was under the bed, Zack noticed, for a shadow not his own darted from here to there within it. He stumbled back, his drunken hand reaching for his weapon, but could not prepare himself in time for the foe about to attack him. He was definitely outmatched.

Within a moment his foe sprang and Zack let out the unmanliest scream he had ever heard. If he survived this, he would tell Sephiroth, should he ask about it, that the sound did not belong to him but instead to his attacker…

Then again, Zack was a little preoccupied.

* * *

Tifa moaned as her cell phone rang persistently throughout the simple silence of her room. With a growl that should have belonged to a beast rather than a human, let alone a woman, she flopped over and snatched at her phone angrily. Looking at the little screen—which was far too bright for her comfort—she tried to read the name.

Zack Fair.

Her brows drew tight together and she about to give the man an ear full when her senses suddenly decided to slap her in the face. Last she had heard of the man, he was rushing off to help his friend on important business. What if something was wrong?

She pushed away her instincts to kill, pressed the little button that would transfer the call, and said, "Zack?"

"Tiiiii-faaaa!"

…This definitely didn't sound urgent and with that thought, all motherly care washed away under the tide of cold hard fury.

"Do. You. Know. What. Time. It. Is. Zachary Fair?"

"…No," he sang, lengthening the vowels in that annoyingly cute way he did; just annoying enough to peeve but cute enough to get away with it.

"Late."

"Ah, but Tifa! I have something really important to tell you! Top-secret stuff! No spilling the beans, got it?" Zack said, his tone suddenly solemn, sober, and to all extents quite serious.

Tifa woke a little more, her motherly instincts fighting to break through the rage, "Alright, Zack, I'm listening."

"I…"

"Hm?"

"Found a puppy!" Zack exclaimed.

Tifa sat up in bed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand, "Excuse me?"

"I found a puppy, Tifa! He's so adorable! Oh, oh, oh, guess where he is?!"

"Zack, I don't really-" Tifa said through gritted teeth but was soon cut off.

"In my coat! I've got my coat all zipped up nice and tight and he has his head peeking out the neck. He likes it there, yep," Zack explained, "Cute pup, too. Little guy with fluffy black fur, a blonde paw on the upper…er…" Zack paused, "Left! Upper left! And his eyes brown…almost red…kind of creepy."

"Sounds nice, Zack, but I think I'm-"

"Oh, guess what I'm doing?!" Zack burst out, his voice high and giddy.

_He's smashed, _Tifa growled in her head and clenched her eyes tight, "What?"

"I'm doing a handstand!"

Tifa blinked slowly before adding dully, "Isn't the puppy in your coat?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think that's a bad idea then?"

"…No?"

Tifa sighed, "Did you go drinking, Zack?"

"Maybe," Zack sang, a gentle grunt and a thump alerting to the fact that he either flipped out of his handstand or fell over.

"Where are you?"

"The ShinRa Manor! Oh…I wasn't supposed to say that! This is a Top-Secret mission!" Zack said in a rush.

Tifa opened her eyes and tilted her head, her tousled black hair falling like silk upon her shoulders, "What are you talking about, Zack? Why are you there? That's trespassing, you know."

"No its not 'cause its ShinRa property."

"…That's exactly why its off limits to civilians, Zack," Tifa said, her tone slow and yet deliberate.

"Oh…" Zack said as though remembering something, "Yeah. I forgot."

"You are just a civilian, right Zack?"

"Oh, I gotta go, Tifa, my Partner-in-Crime is calling me. See ya later!"

"Zack, wait-" but her voice met nothing but dial tone. Tifa frowned and flopped back down into her sheets, letting the phone fall wherever.

Zack was just a civilian…wasn't he?

* * *

Sephiroth was waiting at the balcony when Zack finally stumbled back to him. The spiky haired young man evidently hit the bottle hard that night, despite the delayed reaction, but that was to be expected when one's body was altered by MAKO. He could rarely achieve a buzz himself anymore, let alone hold one for very long. While the effects were strong now, they would fade soon enough.

Sephiroth did not look up as his second in command tried to stifle something in his coat. To tell the truth, Sephiroth didn't really care what the younger man was doing at the moment; though he probably would regret is later. His attention, instead, was fixated upon the ring he had taken from the room he had visited earlier.

_What were those visions I saw? …Memories?_

He rubbed his finger once more around the band before he pocketed the item once more.

"Zack," Sephiroth said curtly, "Time to go."

Zack gave a jerky nod, his hair wobbled to keep up, and gave his General a lopsided grin, "Right-o."

* * *

Sorry for the delay, guys. You know the drill. I didn't spell check. I always feel bad about not spell checking but I hate to say that when it comes straight to it, I'll probably never will, thanks to my horrible laziness. Maybe one day when I revamp it…

Reviewers and Readers alike are loved…though reviewers get glomped because they are awesome!

-Spazzy the Blindfolded Angel


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry Guys, this is just an Author's Note-BUT IT IS IMPORTANT, if you have ever enjoyed my writing and are interested in reading more, please read!

I'm writing an online fiction web series and I'd like to let ya'll know about it! Below you will find all the information you need (summary, links, etc.) and I really, really, REALLY hope you guys check it out. Maybe leave a comment on the site? I'd love you to pieces.

* * *

**"A.R.C."**

**Summary: **When a biological attack hits the United States in 2012, humanity is pushed to it's limits to adapt. Victims become gripped by a severe allergic reaction to water. A new city is established—the Aquagenic-Mortis Rehabilitation City (A.R.C.)—to contain and protect the infected. Nearly thirty years later, people begin to disappear. A.R.C.-born citizens and possible carriers of an evolving strand of DNA could be the cure to end the disease. People like Noah. Now it's up to him, one of few immune to the disease, to find out the truth behind A.R.C. and the dark web of scandals that serve as its foundation.

_**w w w . a r c 2 0 1 2 . w e e b l y . c o m**_

_**"A.R.C." updates with a new chapter weekly. Every Wednesday, without fail.**  
_

You can also follow "A.R.C." on Tumblr - just write a-r-c2012 and then the rest of the tumblr address.

Full link for the first chapter (just take out all the spaces)

w w w . a r c 2 0 1 2 . w e e b l y . c o m

* * *

The reason why I'm posting information about this here, is because the reason why I started writing fanfiction was to better myself as an author and a lot of you provided amazing feedback and critique. I hope that even though this isn't a fanfiction, that you'll still give it a shot and maybe even enjoy it.

Also, I do still plan to finish "Two Where There Was One" and "Tomorrow We Believe, But Not Today". It's just hard to find time lately to write fanfiction. Sorry guys, I know it's been forever. Hopefully "A.R.C." will make up for it?

I really hope to see you there.

-Spazzy (aka Blindfolded Angel)


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